


For Want of a Skywalker

by acuteneurosis



Series: Through the Eyes of the Beholder [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Awkward Conversations, Bad Parenting, Father-Son Relationship, Force Shenanigans, Gen, Poor Piett, Skywalker Family Drama, Skywalker Family Feels, Turns Out We're Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acuteneurosis/pseuds/acuteneurosis
Summary: After the miracle of having survived Bespin, Piett does not ask why they are stopping on Tatooine. Or why Lord Vader suddenly has acquired a small child. Or why this child's name is Luke. Or how long they are going to keep him.He probably should have.
Relationships: Firmus Piett & Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: Through the Eyes of the Beholder [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671883
Comments: 476
Kudos: 1641





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mylongsufferingroommate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylongsufferingroommate/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bitty Luke.

It was a trip that Admiral Piett had not planned on, and so was not pleased about. But it was a trip on Lord Vader's orders, so rather than let a hint of that frustration creep through, he merely executed his orders with proper efficiency and loomed over anyone else who wasn't doing the same.

Until they did.

Crew deaths were down six point eight percent since he had taken over for Admiral Ozzel. And people were beginning to notice.

Especially since Bespin. Everyone noticed that no one had died after Bespin.

Particularly Piett.

"Yes, Lord Vader," Piett said as they orbited the pale deserts of Tatooine, conveying the order to the crew that a series of ships would be arriving, Hutt ships, with… gifts for the Empire. They would need crew in six different docking bays to unload.

"Do we have a timeframe on how long it will take?" one of the lieutenants asked.

"Given that we will be receiving supplies from non-military freighters, prioritize the unloading and move as many personnel as necessary to see it done within the hour," Piett instructed, checking his datapad for any updates the officers traveling with Lord Vader might have sent. "Let me know if that is not possible."

"Yes, sir."

It was neat and orderly and, for an unplanned stop with an unplanned acquisition of goods, going smoothly so far. Now all he had to do was meet Lord Vader and report on the execution of his instructions.

The shuttle itself looked in good condition when it landed, and the calm of the hangar was a deceptive prelude to Lord Vader striding down the landing ramp, a tiny human stumbling along behind, clutching Lord Vader's cloak.

He was maybe two. Or three.

Piett was not prepared for this.

"Has the unloading started?" Lord Vader asked, and it was such a normal question that in spite of the child Piett immediately answered.

"Yes, my lord. I've given instructions to have the vessels unloaded as quickly as possible, and ordered troopers stationed in the bays to prevent any of our guests from wandering."

"Good. I will be in the medical bay. Let me know if anyone attempts any sort of sabotage."

Too wise to ask if that was likely, Piett just said, "Yes, my lord."

It was two hours later, with all the ships unloaded and all the various bins of goods strewn across the various docking bays that Lord Vader returned, small child still in tow. It looked like the boy had been cleaned, groomed, and dressed in something more suitable than the almost rags he had been wearing before. His eyes were large and bright blue, his hair a bright blonde, and when Lord Vader stopped walking, the child huddled close to his leg, wrapping himself more tightly in the cloak.

"Admiral, report," Lord Vader said, and Piett again responded, grateful that habit was not overrun by shock.

He’d been running on borrowed time since Bespin, and everyone knew it.

"We've unloaded all the ships and sent them back to the planet. We're still deep scanning the supplies in the other bays for parasites and contagions, but the initial scans were clean and this bay has been cleared. I've sent the majority of the crew members responsible for unloading to sanitize and head back to their assigned stations. We were just determining a plan of action for the supplies. You indicated they were a gift?"

For whom was going to be important in determining where the supplies would go. "Yes. Or rather, a bribe. To remove me from the planet and limit my interference with their sovereignty, I suspect. I imagine most of it is perishable?"

"Yes, my lord. As far as we can see. And most of it is also in open packaging. Or… more domestic containers."

Piett gestured to a couple of men nearby and they dragged a crate over. It was taller than the child clinging to Lord Vader's leg by about a head and was filled with bowls of fruit. Just… sitting on top of each other.

There was a shift from Lord Vader which Piett had come to associate with a sigh. "Is it all fruit?"

"No, my lord. There are other goods as well. Many of them food, some garments, and, if I am not mistaken, one ship was loaded exclusively with… cheap spice."

There was a distinct chilling in the air. " _Cheap_ spice?"

"That was how it was described to me by one of our control team. Cut with low grade substitutes, he says."

"I see."

Pushing past the deepening chill, Piett continued, "If I have your approval, my lord, I have already made arrangements to have it disposed of."

"Do so immediately," Lord Vader snapped. There was a brief pause, and a tiny blonde head peeked out from the cloak to stare at Piett for a moment, then buried itself in the folds again. "You said the other goods are not contaminated?"

"Not with spice," Piett said firmly. "We checked that in the initial scans. The ones in this bay have been cleared as completely safe. And we won't release any of the rest of the goods without safety confirmation and your approval, my lord."

The silences were growing longer, giving Piett more time to contemplate every place he might have misstepped. "I suppose it would be a waste to just scrap all of it," Lord Vader murmured, picking one of the bowls up and tilting it back and forth.

The boy finally released the cloak to wander over to the crate, hands patting against it as he tried to evaluate if he could see over the edge. When it became clear he could not, he started to climb.

"No, Luke," Lord Vader said as he pulled the boy back by his collar, and Piett did jerk slightly. Thankfully Lord Vader did not notice, and the admiral had time to compose himself.

Luke? The child's name was Luke?

"Whas inside?" Luke asked, pointing. "Presens?"

"Gifts, yes," Vader said. "This one is fruit." He shifted the bowl so that Luke could see the contents.

"I-I-I- I like frut," Luke said, blue eyes wide and blinking. "Pallies my fav'rit." In the space of one blink of those blue eyes, the bowl of fruit was by the child's face, tilted in Lord Vader's hand. Those eyes got even wider and little fingers came up to play with the boy's lower lip. "H'many? All them?"

He sounded so, so hopeful. Piett honestly couldn't breathe.

"Two," Lord Vader said after a moment. Then, as those blue eyes dimmed a little and those lips pouted, "Three."

It earned a brilliant smile and little Luke set about poking at the fruit, trying to find the biggest ones.

He had two in his hands and was about to select a third when Lord Vader said, "Not that one."

"Yes," Luke said, frowning, his fingers wrapping around it.

Lord Vader shook his head and crouched, pointing to another fruit in the bowl. "This one."

“’S bigger," Luke clutched the fruit he had chosen, voice pitching higher.

"It is bigger," Vader said. "You are right. But this one will be more sweet. Poke it."

Dubious but obedient, Luke released his choice, setting it carefully to the side in the bowl so that it would not get lost, and gently poked the one Lord Vader had chosen. Then, under Lord Vader's direction, Luke poked his fruit.

"This one is softer," Lord Vader said, still pointing at his own choice. "So it will be more sweet. More delicious."

Luke did not seem convinced. "Th's bigger."

"You may have whichever you choose," Lord Vader said after a moment. "But I think you will like this one more."

With a trust that stunned Piett, Luke nodded and grabbed the fruit Lord Vader had recommended, immediately biting into it and smiling in delight as juice ran down his chin. "'S sweet!" he garbled around the bite.

Piett shuddered slightly as bits of fruit fell onto the boy's shirt.

You couldn't see it, but it almost _felt_ like Lord Vader smiled. The large, black gloved hand coming up to tousle the boy's hair was visible, and almost eerie in its affectionate use.

That hand had killed people. Piett had watched it.

Who knew it could also be used with such…tenderness?

Happily munching on the fruits he had been given, Luke took his place at Lord Vader's side again, one sticky fist clutching that dark cloak, as Lord Vader turned back to Piett and asked, "And the other supplies?"

A blink instead of shaking himself and Piett answered, "Yes, my lord. We have received a number of other impractical supplies from the Hutts. Would you like the full list or just the most important ones?"

"A full list, if you please. He's sending a message. It would be remiss to ignore any part of it."

"Very well, my lord."

Unfamiliar with the various odds and ends that the Hutts had sent in bulk as an "apology," Piett couldn't be sure of their cultural significance. But if Lord Vader's darkening mood was any indication, they were not good.

The brief, terrifying pauses were punctuated by small sucking and smacking sounds as Luke devoured the fruit.

It was… quite the combination.

"Have the food that is cleared given to the crew," Lord Vader said after the list was complete. "There's no reason to waste it."

Piett nodded. "Yes, my lord. And the other supplies?"

"We'll hold on to them for now," Lord Vader said, glancing down in Luke's direction. "I will go through them myself, later. When I have time."

An unusual decision, especially given, "Yes, my lord. And did you get any information on Skywalker?"

It was a risky choice, but that had been the stated reason for Lord Vader's sudden stop on this planet in the first place. Piett made sure to meet his commander eyes, to the extent he could, while waiting for a reply.

"I did not find what was promised," Lord Vader eventually said, his hands twitching slightly. That was new. Piett did not like it. "We will need to move to a different system and continue the search."

Honestly surprised, Piett asked, "There's no hint that he's coming after the smuggler?"

"Captain Solo remains in carbonite," Lord Vader answered, and Piett hid a wince at the tone. He was pushing boundaries he shouldn't. "Leave a team of fighters here in the system, in case the _Millennium Falcon_ comes through, but don't have them stay more than a few days. It is unlikely they will get any results."

Another strange order, but Piett did not question it. Lord Vader's oddities always produced at least one of two good results: they were precise guesses that uncovered rebel plots, or they got him something he personally wanted. Often, the latter was more important. It was always easier to keep people alive when Lord Vader was in a good mood.

"Yes, my lord."

"Come, Luke."

As Lord Vader turned to go, Luke actually stood still, looking back at the crate. "Moor frut?"

"No, you have already had three."

"F'r lat'r?" That pleading look was almost melting Piett's heart, so he was only moderately surprised when three more fruit floated out of the bowl and landed in Lord Vader's hand.

"You may have these later, if you behave."

"Yes!" Luke giggled, and half ran as he followed Lord Vader, singing what could only be some sort of song about pallies.

Which was when Piett realized he hadn't asked what they were going to do about the boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bitty Luke.

The bridge of a star destroyer was no place for a child.

Piett would have said so, out loud and firmly, if the guilty party who had brought the child had been anyone other than Lord Vader. And he would have had some very serious questions about where the child had come from.

Since it was Lord Vader that had brought the boy, Piett still had some serious questions, but he tried to push them to the back of his mind where they were less likely to get him killed.

He didn't change his mind though. Having the small human toddle around Lord Vader's legs, peer down into the trenches, or lean over them to get a better look out the viewport did nothing to reassure Piett that the child should be there.

It didn’t help that the boy kept asking questions either. “What that?”

“That is a navigation console.”

“That?”

“Communication desk.”

“That?”

“That is a deck officer.”

“What that?”

“That is Admiral Piett.”

“Amirable Peet?”

“… Yes.”

Luke’s voice was distracting enough to the officers as it was strange and did not belong here. Lord Vader speaking so much was worse because everyone turned at least half an ear to him every time he spoke out of sheer self preservation.

An ongoing conversation was wrecking productivity this morning.

It did not help that Lord Vader never had to look to know what the boy was pointing at.

“I can help,” Luke said, pointing at one of the work stations.

“No, child.”

“’S broke. I fix it.”

With a slow heaviness that had all the officers at the station quaking as they tried to pretend they had been deeply focused on their work, Lord Vader turned and walked toward the trench where Luke was pointing. He stared for several long moments.

“It is not broken,” he said at last. “But it is running slow. Admiral.”

“Yes, my lord,” Piett came over in a few steps and stared at his commander’s face, pretending with all his will there was not a small child in reach of his boots.

“Have a diagnostic run.”

“Right away, sir.”

There was a creak of leather as Piett turned, and Lord Vader’s voice coming from a lower angle. “Thank you for finding that. Now we will fix it.”

There were two full breaths of complete silence except for Piett’s steps. Then a flurry of noise as Lord Vader shifted. The admiral caught the attention of Lieutenant Passly and conveyed Lord Vader’s orders. The lieutenant glanced briefly behind Piett, possibly at Lord Vader but more likely at the boy, and nodded.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Piett was in the officer’s mess, poking at his food without really seeing it. He should eat. He had to be back on duty in the next twenty minutes. There were reports to read, assignments to go over, projects to check on.

“Amirable Peet.”

He did not jump. He did _not_.

Glancing to his right, there was in fact a small child there, staring up at him with those large blue eyes. “Hello?”

How did one address a small child under Lord Vader’s escort?

Lord Vader’s missing escort, Piett realized. And that couldn’t be good.

A tug on his pants had him focusing on the child again instead of scanning the room. “Frut please,” Luke said, a tiny finger pointing to a bowl on the table.

People were looking at him. There were other officers in the room and they were watching Piett to see what he would do. Because they didn’t know, and probably wanted a hint at what they should do under similar circumstances. With Lord Vader’s child guest.

This was not shaping up to be a good day.

“You need Lord Vader’s permission,” Piett settled on, and Luke frowned.

“I-I-I- can have. Three.”

It was possible, but, “I cannot give them to you unless Lord Vader tells me that it is alright.”

More pouting. Some struggling on the boy’s part to climb onto the seat next to Piett. Luke had half hauled himself up when the door slid open and Lord Vader swept into the room, scanning it. He spotted Piett and asked, “Have you seen-“

But Luke had made it on to the seat and popped up, smiling at Lord Vader. “I fowned pallies!”

Lord Vader came over and picked up the boy without any hesitation or uncertainty.

“You did find them. I would have helped you, if you had asked.” It wasn’t clear if he was exasperated or not. There seemed to be at least a bit of frustration.

Squirming in Vader’s hold, Luke frowned again. “You busy.”

“I was. But if you had waited, I would have helped you.”

“But I _fowned_ them.” Luke pointed again, leaning towards the fruit bowl. His fingers clutched a bit and Piett was startled when the bowl seemed to shiver. Before he could process the thought, Lord Vader’s hand was around Luke’s.

“You did find the pallies,” Lord Vader said, placing the errant hands on his chest. “Did you want some?”

“Yes.”

Lord Vader summoned three from the bowl, holding them carefully in his hand. “Here.”

A mess hall should not be so quiet, Piett thought as Luke hummed and picked up two of the fruit. It should not sound like a respirator and a small child. There should be people talking. Eating.

But the focus of the whole room was on Lord Vader and the boy.

Luke was about to take a bite when he paused and looked back to Piett. With a smile, he held a fruit out to the admiral instead. “For Amirable Peet. ’S sweet.”

Stunned, and with no clue from Lord Vader as to what would be appropriate, Piett held out his hand and let Luke drop the fruit into it. He even managed to say, “Thank you.”

Luke’s smile grew. He buried his face against Lord Vader for a second, then peeked back at Piett and said, “’S good. Eat it.”

No appetite, no desperate hunger or fatigue had ever compelled Piett to eat in front of Lord Vader before. But Luke had, and Lord Vader was not moving or correcting him, so Piett obediently took a bite. Carefully, so the juice wouldn’t drip on his uniform.

It was sweet. And… fruity.

Piett tried for a smile. “Thank you.”

“Now you not sad,” Luke declared, and Piett blinked in surprise.

“I wasn’t sad,” he corrected, and the boy seemed baffled. Luke looked at Lord Vader, grabbed his face plate, and babbled something that was partly words but mostly just… sounds. With no rhyme or reason.

After a few moments, Lord Vader said, “I do not think he was sad, Luke. It was probably a different feeling.”

The nagging suspicion that the boy was- was- _sensitive_ started to creep forward, but Piett thrust it back in his mind. If that were true, Lord Vader would hand the child over to a proper authority. Quickly. Unless, maybe, he was planning on taking the boy to Coruscant himself. But they were still searching for Skywalker.

Which was when Piett realized that Lord Vader had left and everyone in the room was still staring at him, waiting for an explanation of why their commander was carrying around a small child. A small, blonde, blue eyed child name Luke.

Fortunately, Piett’s imagination had limits, and he was aware of them. Forgoing further thought, he finished the fruit, managed a few more bites of his lunch, and cleared his spot at the table.

General Veers caught him before he could quite escape though. “Admiral.”

Since Veers hadn’t actually grabbed Piett’s arm, the aborted action could be ignored. “General.”

“Did h- Wa- Who is that boy?” The intensity of the question was fueled by fear as much as confusion. Men on this ship lived and died by Lord Vader’s relative predictability. No one was more aware than Piett what these changes in their commander could mean.

“As far as I am aware,” Piett answered carefully, “his name is Luke. Lord Vader has not specified why he is traveling with us, nor how long it will be for.”

“Luke?” Veers asked, eyes wide. “Just… Luke?”

Piett understood, he really did. But they had to keep it together. They were responsible for their men. “I haven’t been told anything else.”

His voice was calm, but there had to be something in his eyes. He just knew it. Whatever it was, General Veers seemed comforted by it. “Alright. I’ll tell my men to keep an eye out and report to you if they see him wandering?”

“Please,” Piett agreed. “And General, I’ll let you know as soon as I have something more to report.”

Which meant it was time to read the mission logs from those who had been on site with Lord Vader yesterday. Piett should have read them during lunch, they had been due this morning. Hopefully they would add some clarity to the situation.

* * *

They did not.

* * *

Three separate ground troops had reported little to nothing of value at all about their mission. Piett flagged their reports and forwarded them to General Veers, suggesting that this should be corrected in the future. He trusted the general. A suggestion was all that was needed.

Two pilots had escorted Lord Vader’s shuttle, but they had remained in their ships the entire time. The only thing of note in their report was that Lord Vader had not found the child while he was with them, but did have Luke by the time he returned.

The other troops had accompanied Lord Vader into Jabba’s palace, and witnessed that Lord Vader had spotted the child as he entered the room, demanded custody, and when Jabba had been belligerent, had killed three of Jabba’s guard and coolly reminded the Hutt that he was left in charge of the region by the grace of the Empire’s allowance. He, Lord Vader, being the representative of that Empire, was in fact allowed to take anything of Jabba’s that he wished.

One trooper noted that Jabba had asked if Lord Vader wanted the carbonite Captain Solo back, to which Lord Vader had answered a definitive no. There were some discrepancies as to how the conversation had worked its way back around to Jabba offering additional gifts, but Piett guessed it probably derived from a few oblique references to Jabba offering to have the boy tagged before Lord Vader left.

Piett had been capturing smugglers enough to know what _that_ implied. While Lord Vader’s… attachment to the boy was senseless, that he was interested in Luke’s wellbeing meant he would not have taken kindly to the idea of a small explosive being placed in the child.

At all.

It was a wonder the Hutt was still alive.

Less strange that he’d felt the need to promise gifts though. As backhanded as Piett guessed they were.

“Come in,” Piett said as something buzzed, still scanning the report. He did not like the lack of clarity it presented. His attention immediately snapped up when the door opened and the sound of a respirator started. “Lord Vader, I’m sorry, were you looking for me?”

Standing at attention behind his desk was uncomfortable, but having chosen the spot it felt more unprofessional to move than to look like he was hiding.

The door slid shut with a hiss, and Piett found his gaze drifting down to Lord Vader’s knees, where a young boy was lurking. Luke smiled as he recognized the admiral and waved.

It took all of Piett’s self-control not to wave back.

“I wanted to discuss some details of our movements going forward,” Lord Vader said, bringing Piett’s attention snapping back up. “Since Luke is with us now, there will have to be… adjustments.”

Oh dear. “He’ll be with us for the foreseeable future then?”

“Yes.”

No other explanation was offered. Under the circumstances, Piett did not feel welcome asking for one. “Very well. What adjustments did you want me to arrange?”

“I will need you to take over the majority of the Skywalker hunt,” Lord Vader said, and Piett felt his stomach hit the floor. He was doomed. “I will of course want to be present for any raids on any specific locations, and will need to approve any large deviations to our course. But minding Luke will take a fixed amount of my time, and his presence here does not need to become a burden to any of the rest of the crew.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Do you think you can manage the hunt?”

Was he allowed to say no? Skywalker had evaded, almost magically, any attempts at capture so far. He’d gotten away from _Bespin_ , where they’d known he would be in advance and had time to prepare. They’d had a carbon freezer. Hostages. _Lord Vader_ had _fought_ him. “I will, as always, exert all my energies to oversee any task that I am assigned.”

In the silence that followed, Piett wished he’d just said yes.

A tug at his knees had him looking down into Luke’s face, which was frowning. “Amirable Peet, you want frut?”

Oh dear. “No thank you, Luke. I am working right now.”

The boy considered this. “Need a n-nap,” he said, nodding his head sharply and looking back to Lord Vader. “’S grumpy.”

Horror singing through his body, Piett was only mildly relieved when Lord Vader said, “No Luke, he is not grumpy. He is an adult and will choose for himself if he needs a nap.”

“’S not _happy_ ,” Luke pressed, and Piett wished he could close his eyes and just pretend this wasn’t happening. Why, why, _why_ was this child so astute?

Lord Vader looked between the two of them and made his sighing shrug. “People are not always happy Luke. It does not always need to be fixed.”

“I-I-I- _like_ Amirable Peet.”

A bizarre declaration all on its own, and one that apparently contained the fulness of Luke’s argument. Taking a risk, Piett knelt down so that he could speak to Luke directly. There was a moment where he was almost distracted by those eyes, something about them, but it was only a moment. “Thank you, Luke, for thinking about me. I am happy when I have work to do and when I do it well. Lord Vader has asked me to do some work. I would like to do it now.”

It felt so patronizing, but it was also true, and something about it, about saying it outright, settled something in Piett.

He did like doing his job. He liked being good at it. He wished he had been better at it before now, but-

But if Lord Vader was handing him the Skywalker hunt, then this would be a chance to prove himself.

He could- he could do this. He could redeem himself. This could work.

However patronizing it might have been, Luke was grinning again. He grabbed Piett around the neck in a quick hug, and before the admiral could react was scampering across the floor back to Lord Vader.

Piett should stand. He should. Immediately.

He did.

One deep breath, and then another. “Is there anything else, my lord?”

“Not at this time. I will inform you if I have need of anything further.” Lord Vader had picked Luke up again, was holding him close and allowing the boy to snuggle against his shoulder.

“Yes, my lord.”

Lord Vader and Luke left the room. Piett stood for another minute, staring at the empty space they had left behind, blinked a few times, took two halting steps to his chair, eased himself slowly into it, and picked up his datapad.

He read the first line. Twice.

Then he threw it across the room and buried his face in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And some more bitty Luke.

Three days. It had been only three days since Lord Vader had handed over the Skywalker hunt to Piett, and he’d spent most of the time reviewing everything that they had on file.

What he got for it was a very ugly pictured of how very dead he was going to be very soon.

Skywalker’s movements only overlapped with predictable and confirmed rebel movements at best half the time. He had disappeared completely after the battle on Hoth and to this day no one knew where he had gone. He traveled often by himself, his fighter was always hyperspace equipped. He got into fights. Everywhere. Though it didn’t seem like he usually started them.

He was charismatic and charming and won over friends in strange places and flew with perfect precision.

He’d blown up the Death Star and faced their best pilots and wiped out various forces of various sizes and always won or escaped. Always.

Last known location: Bespin

Last known Imperial contact: Darth Vader

Last known contact: _Millennium Falcon_ crew, including Princess Organa, the wookiee Chewbacca, and Lando Calrissian

Lord Vader’s information that had led him to Tatooine was not listed in the reports. And probably never would be, going by past records.

“How long until the fighters return from Tatooine?” Piett asked Lieutenant Passly.

“Commander Ree says they should return shortly. There was some activity in the system that they wanted to investigate, so there might be a delay from the original ETA.”

It would figure. Piett did not sigh, did not take a deep breath. Did not notice the dent in the corner of the datapad he was using.

Nothing was going right today. “Very good, lieutenant. Let me know when we have an update. I will report to Lord Vader once we have a finalized time of arrival.”

“Yes, sir.”

There had been the slightest twitch at “Lord Vader.” The whole crew was on edge, and it was almost funny because Lord Vader had been in a better mood the last three days than he had been in the whole time that Piett had known him.

How long would it take to get all around that Lord Vader was good with children?

Probably never. No one would believe it. Piett didn’t believe it, and he kept seeing it.

“Any idea how long we’re keeping the kid?” Veers asked when they crossed paths in the mess later that day, Piett attempting to find something palatable to force down.

It was not easy. “No. Lord Vader has not mentioned any specifics.”

“He’s asking about food rations, and what we have that is suitable,” Veers continued, sipping from his cup. “Apparently _Luke_ doesn’t like military rations.”

“You can hardly blame him,” Piett muttered, earning a raised brow look. “Would any of us choose this if we had other options?”

Given how quickly the fresh fruit and meat had gone, Veers could only shrug. “It just seems silly. All that effort for a child. Where’s he even keeping him?”

“His quarters,” Piett answered, making sure he didn’t hesitate. That there was no special inflection in his voice.

General Veers still narrowed his eyes, frowned. “What?”

“He had me make arrangements for keeping Luke in his general quarters. I believe he gave the boy the… spare room.”

He had to hesitate over that one because that room wasn’t officially labeled on any map or blueprint. Small, functional, a late addition to this ship specifically. And Piett knew, although he was sure no one else did, that there were special locks on the door. Ones he wasn’t personally familiar with, but seemed… sturdy.

“Firmus,” there was a very dangerous note in that voice, although the general was trying to be careful. “Are you telling me you _let_ him keep the boy in his quarters.”

What would you have done, Piett wanted to say. Would you have really told him no, if you suspected… malicious intentions? Piett would like to think that if he believed Lord Vader was engaging in deplorable behavior that he would have had the courage to at least say something. He really hoped he would have.

But.

But he wouldn’t know, because, “It was not a matter of letting,” he said, calm and succinct. “Luke had already asked Lord Vader if he could stay close by and the arrangement was convenient.”

“That’s not-“

“He won’t hurt him,” Piett added in a low tone, glancing around to make sure no one else in the room was listening. “Max, I don’t think the thought has crossed his mind to do _anything_ to harm the child. Not while I’ve seen them together.”

Luke’s questions were boring and impertinent. Nosey and often at full volume. He dribbled and slobbered while he ate, grabbed Lord Vader no matter what was on his hands, and rubbed his sticky face all over the commander’s cape and shoulders. He needed constant attention and entertainment. They’d found him in a docking bay twice, completely unsupervised, the second time halfway up a ladder to one of the ships. He giggled and laughed at all the wrong moments, had even interrupted a meeting yesterday to announce he needed the refresher.

Lord Vader had taken it all and accepted it with a degree of calm collectedness Piett had never before experienced.

It was insane. And terrifying.

And very reassuring given that they were sharing a living space.

“You’re sure about that?” General Veers looked like he wanted to believe Piett, but it was hard to accept that Lord Vader had ever met anyone he hadn’t at least considered hurting in some way, shape, or form.

“Yes. And I don’t know if that should be comforting, but it is.”

Because what it implied, what it suggested, was that Lord Vader was technically capable of normal social interaction. Sane behavior. Attitudes of non-violence.

And no one under his command had ever earned that level of respect.

The thought was… very lowering.

Especially given that a toddler had managed it.

Veers looked to also dislike this line of thought. “He shouldn’t need to keep a human if he wants a pet.”

And thank goodness they were still relatively alone, because if _that_ had gotten around the ship and back to Lord Vader…

“I seriously doubt that is what he is doing.” He tried not to be too stiff while he said it. Veers was patient with him, and was still speaking to him after the Bespin debacle.

“Then _why_?”

It was a simple question, but it had no obvious answer. “I don’t know. I really- I just don’t know.”

The admission earned him a companionable clap on the shoulder and then some much needed privacy. Neither of which made Piett feel better.

* * *

The call from Commander Ree was not reassuring. “We’ve got a ship and its crew. Pretty sure it’s the _Millennium Falcon_ , but we haven’t checked the inside yet.”

None of the surrounding officers were making a single sound. If it was the _Falcon_ …“Have you confirmed how many life forms are on board?” Piett asked, hoping his voice gave nothing away.

There was a roaring in his ears and he tried to make sure he didn’t miss anything the Commander was saying.

“No, we don’t have the equipment for that. Can confirm life forms, just not how many.”

“Very good, Commander. Hold the ship until we arrive. We will be at your location in no more than six hours.”

“Just don’t run into us,” she quipped, and Piett didn’t dignify that with an answer.

Well, except, “Don’t lose that ship.”

“Not gonna happen, sir. We’ve got her.”

He believed her, in the sense that he knew she would try. He just also knew Skywalker. And the Princess Organa. And that the ship belonged to a wily smuggler and their last known contact was a gambling and smuggling fiend in his own time.

This was not Piett’s day.

Still, he made his way to Darth Vader’s quarters, not trusting anyone else with the news. He was allowed in right away, and was very surprised to see that Lord Vader was in the hyperbaric chamber. Possibly even more surprising was that on his lap was Luke, who was looking horribly cheerful for a child who had been face to face with the terror of the Empire.

Even Piett had never seen Lord Vader clearly.

“Admiral, report.”

“Hi!’ Luke added, before Piett could quite respond to the command. It made him stumble as he tried to smile at the boy while also following the order.

“My lord, Commander Ree has reported back in from the Tatooine system. Their delay seems to have been providential. She says they have taken the _Millennium Falcon_.”

It was a little surprising that Lord Vader did not answer right away. “Have they confirmed who is on board?”

“No, my lord, they don’t have the appropriate equipment for detailed scanning or boarding. They have the ship suspended, unable to make any jumps, and are waiting for our arrival. I’ve already set a course to join them.”

“I see.”

There was a disturbing lack of enthusiasm. Or threat. Piett should have been glad for the latter, but it implied something that he had not quite grasped yet. If Lord Vader did not _care_ about the Skywalker hunt anymore, or Piett’s success in it, what could that mean?

“Where the bird?” Luke asked, kneeling on Lord Vader’s lap and pointing at Piett. “I-I- want to see.”

Stroking the boy’s head, Lord Vader answered, “There is no bird, Luke. There is a ship. Admiral Piett has captured our enemies and is taking them into custody.”

After some consideration Luke asked, “Amirable Peet do good?”

“Yes,” Lord Vader did not hesitate and something that had been twisting and squeezing inside Piett since Bespin eased just the tiniest bit. “He has done very well.”

They spoke briefly of what measures to take when the ship was unloaded. Lord Vader did not confirm whether or not he would physically be present. It would depend, apparently, on whether or not Luke was asleep yet. Piett determined that nothing would go wrong no matter who was present.

“If we confirm that Skywalker is on board, would you like to be informed immediately?” he checked. He shouldn’t have had to, but things with Luke were often less interruptible even than Lord Vader’s meditations.

“If you find him… yes. I want to know immediately.”

That had a bit of the old fire in it. Piett found it mostly reassuring.

* * *

At the end of six hours, they were back in orbit around Tatooine. The fighters were still there and so was the rebel ship. They pulled it in, surrounded it, forced the ramp open, and when no one immediately descended, troopers were sent in prepared to stun.

Piett had had two orders. Kill none of the passengers until Lord Vader had authorized it and don’t get killed yourself.

They did fairly well with both. Piett heard the sounds of blaster fire for several seconds when the troopers found the crew. But there were only two casualties, and both were treatable. They were escorted out last and Piett would have paid them much more mind if he hadn’t been focused on the crew being dragged out.

One scandalously dressed princess, a not-carbon-frozen smuggler, a treacherous mining baron, a still twitching wookiee, and two droids. One protocol and one astromech.

And no Luke Skywalker.

This was really not Admiral Piett’s day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I cannot even begin to say how much I have loved and appreciated your comments. You've all been so kind and excited and it makes it so much fun to post this. I really hope you keep enjoying it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so bitty Leia.

The princess was shivering. Piett took casual note of it as he came forward to inspect the captives. It was probably due to her lack of clothing, which seemed an odd choice, even by the princess’s standards. Especially the collar and chai-

Oh.

Interesting. Something they could question her about. Later.

Captain Solo was also shaking, but that seemed to be less from cold and more from having just been taken out of carbonite. He was also blinking a great deal and did not focused on anything until Piett passed directly in front of him.

Hibernation sickness. They’d need to have medical see to him once he was properly processed.

Calrissian and the wookiee seemed normal enough. Perhaps the wookiee was more matted than usual. It was hard to tell, given that Piett knew zero other wookiees. And Calrissian seemed a bit… scruffy.

They had come off of Tatooine. Taking Solo from Jabba the Hutt.

Piett desperately wanted an explanation of how they had gotten out using a plan that had the princess dressed like this. It would rival almost any Skywalker story, he was sure. They probably had used some of their friend’s ideas. It would be good research. Very good research.

And possibly an excellent holofilm.

There was no Skywalker.

There was _no_ Skywalker.

Piett had to accept that _there was no Skywalker_.

“Have them taken to detention. Make sure they are all kept separate.” It was standard procedure, but Piett said it anyway to make sure it was clear. There were to be no slip ups this time.

There was _no Skywalker_.

“Admiral Piett.” He’d missed the temperature drop in the room. He should have noticed. The princess was shuddering, not just shivering. Piett should have noticed the change. “It seems you have in fact collected the _Millennium Falcon_.”

A quick breath as he turned, stood at attention. “Commander Ree and her fighters succeeded in the capture and holding of the freighter. I will include a commendation in the report.”

There was no reply. Lord Vader only moved forward, looking up and down the line. “No Skywalker.”

“No, my lord.”

He almost missed the princess’s twitch. Almost. Her clenched fists may have been tighter. He should have been paying attention.

Lord Vader turned away from the group, headed back for the hangar exit. Piett almost didn’t know what to do.

And then Luke showed up, and Lord Vader froze.

His little blonde head just peeked around the corner. He didn’t come in. He looked somewhat guilty, as if he knew that he wasn’t supposed to be there. But there he was.

“’S ship,” he said, pointing at the _Flacon_. “Not a bird.”

Vader did his shrug sigh. Started forward again. Picked up the child.

“What did you _do_ to him?”

It was something between a shriek and a howl and it made Piett wince slightly as he turned to look back at the princess. She was straining against her captors, who seemed to be having an unacceptably hard time holding her back. In spite of there being two of them, both larger than her.

Please, please he couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

“Leia, what?” the smuggler asked, blinking towards where she was yelling.

But she didn’t answer him, just tried to lunge again. Piett stepped towards her, ready to intervene personally to make sure this was a success.

“You are not supposed to be down here,” Lord Vader was saying to Luke, ignoring the rebels. “How did you get out?”

“Where are you taking him?” the princess demanded, and Lord Vader actually stopped to look back.

“To bed.”

“ _What?_ ”

At the implications in her tone the already chill temperature plummeted. Even little Luke whimpered. Calrissian was the one who managed, “Princess, I’m sure he didn’t mean-“

“Didn’t meant _what_?” Lord Vader demanded, the words whipping out, making the men in the room flinch.

The princess winced but held her ground, still straining. “Give him back!”

“You are all,” Lord Vader said, holding Luke so that it was harder to see him, “in my custody. I do not answer to you.”

The princess shrieked again and the smuggler tried, “Leia, what-“

“Luke!” she yelled, and the little boy’s head came up. Lord Vader tried to push it down, but it looked like the boy was now curious, and he kept staring at the princess. “Luke, don’t-“

“Stun her.”

The order was clear and loud and unmuffled by Lord Vader’s suddenly twisting and striding away, holding Luke so that the boy did not see what happened to the princess. Piett noticed her collapse, how it made the smuggler and the wookiee lunge and Calrissian wince as she hit the floor. The troopers holding her seemed relieved.

Lord Vader was gone, so Piett directed everyone to proceed. They would process the prisoners, slice the ship’s computers for any valuable navigational data, process the droids. Well, or something. The astromech was not cooperating with anyone who came hear him, and there were yelps that did not bode well for those involved.

The protocol droid was chattering almost nonstop, but it was not useful information and so Piett tuned it out.

Luke.

The princess had called the boy Luke. Had _recognized_ Luke.

Had looked at a perfectly healthy and comfortable little boy on this cruiser and determined that Lord Vader had done something horribly wrong to him.

Immediately. With conviction.

Piett did _not_ like the implications of that.

Especially since there was only one well known associate of the princess whose name was Luke.

Skywalker.

Luke Skywalker, who was not here with his friends who had just rescued Captain Solo from Jabba the Hutt. On Tatooine.

Where Lord Vader had found Luke.

It was not possible. It was not possible, and so Piett was not going to think about it. He was going to ready his reports as they came in, carefully and slowly. He would cross things off that had been done and give orders for things that still needed doing. He would completely forget that his shift was over and it was well past time for him to sleep. He would approve treatment for all their prisoners for various desert ailments and sundry injuries. He would make sure Solo in particular was seen to. He would make sure the droids, which were extraordinarily unhelpful in completely opposite ways, were eventually stored until it could be determined how best to go about extracting information from them.

Piett did all these things and repeatedly ignored pleas, suggestions, hints, and almost outright orders to put down his datapad and go to bed.

He did not want to sleep. He was going to be dead in the morning. Best to leave everything in order before he went.

“Admiral Piett.”

Lord Vader had arrived early on the bridge.

“Reports are in regarding the prisoners, my lord,” Piett said promptly. “The ship is still being processed for information, the medical crew is less than enthusiastic about Captain Solo’s condition but believes he will do well, and the princess has almost made it out of her cell three times. But we have her under control now.”

“Three?” Lord Vader asked.

Piett nodded. “Three. There was a short length of chain on the collar she was wearing. The troopers who originally brought her in forgot to remove it. I’ve left them to General Veers for discipline, although I think almost being throttled was probably more effective at making sure they don’t, in the future, make that mistake.”

He was rambling. He knew he was rambling and he knew Lord Vader had noticed because, “Have you slept, Admiral?”

“Not yet, my lord.”

A gloved finger pointed directly at Piett’s face. “Get off my bridge and don’t come back here until you have had at least six standard hours of sleep. Seven,” Lord Vader corrected. “We will discuss the success of this mission when you return.”

Piett bowed and exited quickly.

The mission. A success?

Somehow, Piett didn’t think so.

* * *

Princess Leia Organa was curled up in the far corner of her cell, bundled up in a blanket and glaring at the opposite wall. Piett noticed that she didn’t even look over as he came in, and it was slightly unnerving. Her gaze seemed fixed to that spot almost as if she could see through it to something else.

“We have some questions for you,” he began as politely as he could. This was an interrogation, but he had his methods as others had theirs. Polite had always worked him wonders before. “It would be in everyone’s best interest if you answered them honestly and comprehensively.”

No response. Well, not much he could do about that.

“Why were you on Tatooine?”

“Because your psychotic, skulking suit of armor pawned Han off to a bounty hunter.”

Oh dear. It was going to be one of those kinds of interrogations. “Then your objective was to reclaim Captain Solo from the control of Jabba the Hutt?”

“It wasn’t a rebel assignment or mission,” Leia said, glancing at him in a way that made Piett feel small for a moment. No more than a moment. It took Lord Vader to get that kind of reaction. But he found himself begrudgingly impressed.

“You admit to being a rebel then?”

Now the princess was staring at him. Really staring, and then she smiled. And he did not like that smile. “I’m a refugee and a victim of war crimes,” she said succinctly. “I was taken in by those who recognized and rejected the nature of the illicit and immoral things that were done to my home and my family.”

Ah. The Death Star. Piett was not stupid enough to touch that one. Technically the Emperor had ratified the use of the station on Alderaan. But it was more than rumor that that action had been taken retroactively. And even Piett was leery of the implications of that, no matter how loyal he was.

He had friends. They didn’t deserve to be blown up because of the actions of singular rebels living on the same planet.

“Captain Solo says that you were on Bespin for a pleasure visit, meeting one of his old friends. That your ship and crew have nothing to do with the rebellion.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What else did he say?”

So, so much. Piett regretted that interview. “Many things which I suspect of being highly exaggerated if not outright untrue. I think he wanted to see if Imperial officers blush.”

“Troopers might,” Leia said, leaning back. “You don’t.”

He was almost flattered. It had the hint of being a compliment. “Thank you.”

She smiled, and while it was tired and weary in ways he almost felt like he could understand, it was also surprisingly warm. “What do you want, Admiral? I probably can’t give it to you, but you might as well just ask. It will save us a lot of time. Time I’m sure Han’s wasted. On purpose. To be a scoundrel.”

She said scoundrel with more affection than Piett thought appropriate, but he just asked, “If rescuing Han Solo was why you were there, why wasn’t Skywalker with you?”

Leia blinked some more, but didn’t look away. “Vader cut off his hand.”

Piett frowned. That…was a true statement. And one he hadn’t thought about much. It was technically possible that the rebel was still recovering. Although it seemed like a long time for him to still be recovering from having been fitted for a prosthetic. Even if it was a low grade one.

Were there also mental barriers? Was the rebellion so poor the only replacements they could offer materially interfered with Skywalker’s ability and they had finally restricted him to a short rope?

Piett hoped so. Finding the rebellion with Skywalker would be much more satisfying than finding just the boy himself.

But.

But that had been too easy. Princess Leia had been exact and succinct, and being that cooperative of course meant she was hiding something.

Skywalker was probably not languishing with the rebel fleet somewhere.

Which left the question of where he was.

“Is that why he didn’t help you?”

“Who’s saying he didn’t?” Leia asked, wrapping the blanket more firmly around herself.

Frowning, Piett wondered if he had ordered for her to be given new clothes. He probably hadn’t. “If he helped, then where is he?”

“He has a ship,” Leia pointed out. “He doesn’t usually fly with us.”

Lie. Skywalker had flown on the _Falcon_ many times. Piett had read the reports. It was his preferred transport when he wasn’t flying solo. And the variety of missions the rebels were running did not require him to be alone as often as the princess was implying.

“Did he this time?”

“No. He didn’t come with us.”

That was… carefully worded. Piett thought it was truthful, but he couldn’t be quite sure. The lie, or high priority truth, was hidden in there. Somewhere.

“How long has Vader had the kid?” she asked, and Piett was adrift for a moment.

“I’m afraid I am the one who gets to ask questions, your highness. You do not have that privilege.”

“I’ve got a mouth,” she shot back, and Piett sighed. Even with the sleep, he wasn’t up to this. Not right now.

“We’ll give you some more time to think over the details of the past few days. Someone will return later to take a more comprehensive report.”

The princess snorted and went back to staring at the wall.

Well, so much for that.

As Piett exited, he noticed a small shape hiding in one of the alcoves of the hall. He sighed again as he walked over to Luke, crouching down to look at the boy. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

And how _had_ he made it down to the detention level? Thank goodness his hands couldn’t reach the keypads. The cells were locked, but Piett was taking no chances.

“Priy lady,” Luke said, pointing at Leia’s cell. “She know my name.”

Curiosity was almost leaking off of him. Piett shook his head. “You can’t meet her unless Lord Vader says that it is alright. And he won’t,” the admiral added, realizing the first thing Luke would do on seeing Lord Vader would be to ask. And mention Piett had suggested it, no doubt.

“Amirable Peet can say yes,” Luke suggested, smiling winningly and tugging on Piett’s sleeve. “Peepl listen to Amirable Peet.”

He was also too tired for this. Standing and taking Luke’s hand, Piett said, “Come. Let’s go find Lord Vader and see where you are supposed to be right now.”

Luke sighed. “Room’s boring.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Piett answered absently, and earned a glare for his thoughtlessness.

“Is,” Luke grumbled. “’S boring a _lot_.”

Piett desperately hoped Lord Vader had a plan.


	5. Chapter 5

Lord Vader did not have a plan.

Or rather, his plan seemed to be to give Luke whatever he wanted that Lord Vader thought was alright. And distract the boy from things that he thought were not.

Which is how they were at one of the command terminals and Lord Vader was explaining the function of _every single button_. Twice.

Luke was thrilled.

Which Piett considered an improvement from the boy having thrown himself on the ground, slamming his fists into the floor, and demanding to be allowed to see the pretty lady. The level of stress on the bridge had skyrocketed and it was almost amusing to watch Lord Vader floundering to placate the child. Eventually, he had decided that button explaining was the best option. And that if Luke was _very_ good, he could even touch some of them.

Piett shuddered.

“Someone needs to explain to that man that it is _not_ a good idea to let a child think they’re in charge.”

The barely audible whisper would have been more startling if General Veers hadn’t placed a hand on Piett’s shoulder first.

As it was, Piett glanced nervously at Lord Vader to see if their commander gave any sign of having heard before he nodded. Piett knew next to nothing about children. Veers had a child, he knew. Grown now, but of the two of them Piett would defer to Veers on questions of parenting.

“Technically,” Piett felt compelled to point out, “he isn’t giving the boy what he asked for.”

“No,” Veers agreed. “Instead, he’s letting him play with the navigation commands on an _Executor Class Imperial Star Destroyer_.”

“Please don’t remind me. I was very successfully ignoring that.”

There was a pause. “Children aren’t always the only ones who need to be reminded they can’t have everything they want.”

And now Piett was desperately trying to ignore _that_ too. Because the only one on this ship that could even pretend to have the right to attempt to try and convince Lord Vader that he wasn’t fully and completely in charge at all times and all crew members always had to do exactly what he said was Admiral Piett.

And he’d been trying _so_ hard to not get killed at this job.

“Well Max,” Piett said eventually, inwardly kicking himself for such casual address on the bridge, “I’m sure Lord Vader would be interested to hear from a parent who has successfully raised a child as to what the best methods are.”

The sudden stiffness behind him was surprising, and then Piett kicked himself. Right. Max’s son. The rebel.

“I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine.” A breath. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He wouldn't, but there wasn't much Piett could actually do. "Please don’t do anything to get yourself killed. I need competent people like you.”

That earned Piett a tap on the shoulder, which was as close to forgiveness as he was probably going to get at this point. He’d let General Veers cool off and then try and apologize.

He needed to not ruin his sleep schedule. He kept doing stupid things, and he couldn’t afford that.

A delighted giggle pulled Piett’s attention back to Lord Vader and the boy, and Piett winced as he noticed Lord Vader directing Luke to press certain buttons. It was supervised. Lord Vader wouldn’t let the boy do anything to damage the ship. It was fine.

It was not.

To distract himself, Piett went back to scanning the crew and noting with amusement the disbelief on their faces. Some of it was probably that Lord Vader was interacting with the child, but Piett had also heard complaints before about how it seemed like Lord Vader never did anything but boss everyone around and kill people. Sure, he knew his TIE, but with how he treated it, how could he possibly know anything about this ship?

Piett was very grateful they had their crew, and not a deck full of people as skilled and imaginative as Lord Vader. There was every chance that if given the opportunity, they would try and fly this cruiser as if it were a TIE fighter, at least as much as they could manage. No sane person needed to experience that.

“Very good,” Lord Vader said solemnly. “You’ve set our new course.”

“We go home?”

“Not yet. We still have things to do.”

It was a strange answer, and it both lifted and crushed Piett’s hopes. Luke thought he was going home at some point. Good. Lord Vader wanted to delay that for some reason. Bad.

Very bad.

“I-I-I- like th’ ship,” Luke announced, looking up and out towards the viewport. “’S fun.”

Fun. The largest, most dangerous traveling base of the Empire’s military was fun.

Piett wanted to die of shame.

“It is a good ship,” Lord Vader said, stroking the boy’s head.

“I-I- like i' _lots_.” There was some snuggling into Lord Vader’s shoulder and Piett just barely made out, “I like _you_.”

No one on the bridge moved. Piett didn’t breathe. He was pretty sure Lord Vader had missed a breath too.

“Thank you, Luke. I like you as well.”

Piett was going to die. The bridge was going to die. They were all going to die. They were witnesses.

Luke sat up, looked directly at Lord Vader’s mask, put a small hand to the sharp approximation of a cheek. “I love you.”

Oh. Maybe they were already dead? That… that could make sense. Make this… make sense.

This did not make sense.

It was clear this time, painfully clear, that Lord Vader had stumbled over his breaths. “I- Thank you, Luke. That is… very kind.”

Dejection in every line of the boy’s body. Slumped and drooping and Lord Vader was tensing and dear mercy they were all going to-

An alarm blared. Lord Vader stiffened, shifted his grip on Luke, attention snapping to Piett. “What-“

“Admiral,” one of the deck officers called out, “we’ve got a detention breach!”

* * *

The princess had escaped. The princess had escaped. Under a series of circumstances that just _smelled_ like Skywalker, the princess had vanished from her holding cell.

The wookiee was free, the smuggler was free. They were making their way to the hangar with the _Millennium Falcon_ and Piett was going to die. The only good news, if it could be called good, was that the princess did not seem to be with them. She was probably trying to find the droids. Or Calrissian. Guards had been placed by both. They would be recaptured. It was fine.

Piett was going to die. They were all going to die.

“Report,” Lord Vader said, coming down the hall. He’d taken Luke back to his quarters, and Piett was relieved. They didn’t need the boy in the way.

“The wookiee and the smuggler have made it to the ship. We have the bay closing and surrounded. Not sending anyone in yet. If we get the princess we can negotiate surrender without losing fighters.”

“Good. She is not with them?”

“Missing,” Piett confirmed, and Lord Vader stiffened, glancing back towards his quarters. “Spotted in detention a few times in the last thirty minutes. By scans and visual searches, she hasn’t left that quarter.”

It was frightening to see Lord Vader was relieved. “The others?”

Others? “Calrissian is still in his cell, we’ve added more guards.”

“And the droids?”

So Lord Vader also believed she would retrieve them. “Still in general supply and maintenance with ours. She hasn’t been spotted there yet.”

“They aren’t together. They can’t leave on the _Falcon_ if they aren’t together.”

He hadn’t thought of that. “We’ll move more troops to the other transport hangars.”

“And fighter hangars,” Lord Vader said firmly. “This is an act of pure desperation. Rule nothing out.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Clear, concise, in the moment. This was the Lord Vader Piett knew how to deal with. He felt himself responding, sliding back into a familiar stride, familiar pattern of thinking. Checking reports as they came in, flipping through security footage trying to add his own efforts to the manhunt while being prepared to adjust orders.

They could do this. They could-

“Sir, she’s in the hangar. She’s got Calrissian!”

_How_?

Piett’s mind scrambled and he forced it away from that thought to, “Move the troops in.”

They had already changed course, were close by. Lord Vader had lengthened his stride, was surging forward.

The bay was still open. Something must have sabotaged it mid closure. That shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t part of the controls.

The princess and Calrissian were running, but the girl turned as she heard Lord Vader, firing a blaster, and how and when had she managed to get her hands on that?

The first shots were wide, the next was coming straight for Piett’s face, and maybe this was a good way to die.

The red blade of a lightsaber streaked past his nose and Piett froze. The bolt coming for his face veered off, hit the freighter. Calrissian cursed.

“Leia!”

“Go,” she shouted back at him. “Make them take off.”

“Han’s gonna kill-“

“Go!”

Weak man that he was, Calrissian left her. The princess was still firing as Lord Vader came forward, one hand raised and the bay doors started shutting, grinding together. The other deflected bolt after bolt. One hit the princess and her leg collapsed, but she kept firing. Tried to stand up. Managed.

He should be doing something. He knew he should. Piett should not just be standing there watching. He should be helping, giving orders.

But there was something thick and impenetrable about the moment. As if time was slowing down to show him each and every second of this encounter, like it was more important than anything else going on in the universe right now, and-

“Luke!”

The princess’s scream was a distraction for everyone, and Piett was horrified to see that yes, indeed, there was the boy, in the hangar again. Not by the doors but peeking out around some crates, halfway between Lord Vader and Princess Leia.

She was already moving. Piett had frozen, but the princess had lunged, firing towards Lord Vader, forcing him to deflect two shots, to stop closing the bay as his hand swung towards her and he yanked.

She stumbled. Her blaster flew out of her hands. But she shoved off from the floor, slammed into the boy, wrapping her arms around him and-

Something screamed.

The air twisted around them. There was a burst of pressure from the right as the _Falcon_ took off, but another from where Luke and the princess were. Something wrenched, not with light, but it did something to the color of the spot and Piett blinked and took a step forward to help and-

Stopped.

Frozen. Stunned.

Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees was- was-

Luke Skywalker.

There was a tiny whimper. A little, naked, brown haired form wobbled as it also tried to stand. Luke grabbed it, cradling it to his bare chest. “No, it’s okay. It’s okay Leia, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Luke Skywalker looked up and Piett saw his blue eyes and the shape of his face and the determination there and something… something else. And then Skywalker turned to Lord Vader.

“Please,” he begged. “Please don’t hurt her.”

A respirated breath. Two. The saber turned off. Lord Vader shrugged out of his cloak, threw it, settled it with those unnatural powers over the two naked humans. Clipped the saber to his belt.

“For now, I will not.”

Luke sagged, smiling in relief. His arms tightened around… around the bitty princess. “See, told you. We’ll be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bitty Leia.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More bitty Leia.

The princess was sobbing. She was doing it quietly, or at least the sound was being muffled as she cried into Skywalker’s shoulder. The cloak draped over them moved as though the boy were making soothing circles on her back. His eyes were on Lord Vader, but the stream of words pouring from his mouth were for his friend.

His tiny, recently shrunk, how the hell did this just happen, friend.

Piett was not the only one confused. “I don’t suppose you know how this occurred?” Lord Vader asked, sounding almost tired. Diminished.

Skywalker shook his head. “This was _not_ the plan.”

“What was?” Luke’s mouth clamped shut at Lord Vader’s question. “It can’t matter if you hide it now. Captain Solo and his friends have escaped the Hutt.”

A brief hesitation, and then, “I… was just planning on walking in. And asking for him.”

“ _What?_ ”

Piett could hardly believe it himself. Hadn’t his boy grown up on Tatooine? Didn’t he know how the gangsters worked?

“I figured I could make it up from there? I had other pieces of the plan. Leia and Lando were already inside.”

“You sold the princess to get her in?” Piett wasn’t sure how to interpret Lord Vader’s tone.

“No! She was supposed to get herself in. Without getting caught. I don’t know what happened. I never showed up.”

Not lying, but hiding some of the truth. There probably was actually more to the plan. He just didn’t intend to share, possibly out of sheer stubbornness. That seemed like the boy.

Luke was Luke Skywalker. Little Luke was-

Here. Now. Don’t get the men killed.

“My lord,” Piett said, finding his voice at last. Lord Vader turned to look at him. “Should we move him to detention?”

“No. He will be moved back to my quarters, the same as before.”

Not thinking about that one, not touching it. “Very good, sir. And… the princess?”

Lord Vader looked back to the sobbing child. “Medical bay. She’ll need to be treated before anything else.”

Startled, Luke looked into the folds of the cape and gasped after a moment of inspection. “You shot her!”

“She shot first,” Lord Vader said, folding his arms across his chest. “Multiple times. And we didn’t shoot her.”

“What?’

“She shot herself.”

Well, sort of. Luke was not deceived. “You deflected a shot back to her, didn’t you?”

He was definitely not pleased with that, but Lord Vader didn’t give any ground. “She is an escaped rebel prisoner.”

“She’s a baby!”

“She wasn’t when she was holding the blaster,” Lord Vader growled. “And she almost hit Admiral Piett.”

That made Luke pause. “Okay, that would have been bad. He wouldn’t deserve that.”

It was the strangest praise Piett had ever received and he didn’t really know how to feel about it. “I do have a duty to serve the Empire,” he pointed out. “There are risks that come with that.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you deserve them,” Skywalker was actually smiling at Piett, a laugh in his eyes. “You’ve had a pretty rough week already.”

Compassion. He was being treated with compassion and he’d just asked if he should lock this boy up.

There was no explaining it.

“He will be fine,” Lord Vader said. “For now, we will take the princess and you will follow Admiral Piett back to your quarters.”

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t appropriate procedure for holding a rebel,” Skywalker was still smiling, but he was also trying to stand and seemed to be having trouble balancing, holding the princess, and keeping the cape draped over him.

“You require unique efforts to maintain,” Lord Vader almost sounded amused as two troopers approached and helped Skywalker, one of them holding his arms out for the princess. Luke hesitated. Looked at Lord Vader.

“Can I-“

“No.”

Skywalker frowned. “You didn’t let me-“

“No.”

“I promise-“

“ _No_.”

Reluctantly, Skywalker tried to hand the princess over. Tried being the operative word. The moment he moved her, her screaming kicked up and her small hands grabbed at Skywalker as she lunged back towards him. There was a bit of a scramble that somehow ended with both troopers on the floor, Luke half pinned beneath one, the princess curled on his chest, arms in a death grip around his throat. “Leia…”

Lord Vader stormed over, scooped the girl off of Skywalker, and completely ignored her screaming as he stepped away, allowing the troopers room to stand and pull their captive back up.

The boy had the audacity to give Lord Vader the sauciest look. “She doesn’t like you.”

“She never has.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t remember that right now.”

Lord Vader did not seem impressed by this. “I have no interest in her good opinion.”

“She’s going to be difficult with the medical officers.”

“Of that I never had any doubt.”

“I can help.”

Lord Vader was shuffling the princess’s position as she wriggled and screamed, trying to make sure to not brush the inflamed burn on her leg. “That won’t be necessary.”

“It’ll be faster to just bring me with you now and nicer not to have to admit later that I was right.”

Piett choked, eyes going wide. The boy was still smiling, and it made no sense.

There was a long silence. Lord Vader twitched once or twice, Skywalker’s smile got wider, then he frowned, then smiled again. They couldn’t be…

“Fine. Admiral, bring him with us. He should probably be examined anyway, to see if there are any adverse effects from the transformation.”

“Yes, my lord,” Piett answered just as Skywalker said, “I can take Leia-“

“No.”

Lord Vader did not give the boy time to argue, just moved and expected everyone else to move with him.

It worked. Even with the screaming child on his shoulder.

Maybe because of the screaming child there.

Medical was not happy when they arrived. The team was already upset at whatever Lord Vader had done when he had brought Luke in the first time, and was in no mood to be the tail end of what they assumed was a joke as Lord Vader asked them to do another examination on the supposedly same person who was now, inexplicably, twenty years older.

And also another examination of a prisoner they had just taken on who was, somehow, twenty years younger.

They did not like it at all.

“The circumstances have been orchestrated by the Force,” Lord Vader said firmly. “What we currently lack in details can only be aided by further study. You can only hamper yourselves by refusing to begin.”

“Also, Leia’s been shot,” Luke pointed out, glaring a little at Lord Vader. “So you should definitely take care of that first.”

“I didn’t shoot her,” Lord Vader grumbled. “I don’t use blasters.”

“Still your fault.”

“Enough.”

Skywalker shrugged, smiled at the staff on duty, and shifted under the cloak. “I promise I won’t complain about any hyposprays this time.”

The mixed look of disbelief, horror, and relief told Piett he hadn’t read that report closely enough. Or had there even been one? He couldn’t remember. Direct orders monitored by Lord Vader didn’t always get completely documented.

Which seemed like it might be a great pity this time.

In any event, Skywalker did not cause any trouble, not even in the face of the hypospray.

The princess caused plenty. She screamed at Lord Vader and the medical officers and droids, threw herself around on the table, screamed louder when this affected her injury, bit no less than three people including Lord Vader, screamed again when this did not get her what she wanted, and turned a purple color that Piett found extremely worrying.

“Leia,” Skywalker came over, inspection finished and dressed now in med bay tunic and trousers, almost oozing calmness. The girl, swaying ominously, hiccuped as she blinked at her friend and then whimpered, reaching out for him.

He didn’t pick her up, but did lean against the table and stroked her hair, starting to work on extracting two metal hairpieces that were tangled in the princess’s curls. She fussed, but he murmured nonsense and the medical team were able to get to work as Luke continued to sooth her.

Admiral Piett did not look at Lord Vader. Especially not when Skywalker glanced up over Leia’s head, smiling in a very triumphant way. Piett had no idea how Lord Vader chose to not respond to that provocation.

About halfway through her treatment, Piett came to himself and realized something important. “Lord Vader, are there still children’s garments in general supply?”

Piett knew an order had been given to have them moved for Luke’s use, but he wasn’t sure how many of them. They were an emergency cache for when the ship moved refugees, and in limited supply.

And one set was now scraps in one of the hangars.

“Yes, there are still some down there.”

And there were. Piett had them brought up to the med bay and inspected them, frowning slightly. “Are these the right size?” he asked the officer that had brought them.

There was an awkward half shuffle. “Closest I could find, sir. They might be a little large.”

Since requesting anyone to retrieve the correct size from Lord Vader’s quarters would be a death sentence for everyone involved, Piett just nodded and passed the clothing along to Skywalker, who thanked him.

The injury cleaned, treated, and bandaged, the child dressed, and Skywalker cleared of any obvious negative effects that could have come from such rapid aging, Lord Vader directed the boy and Admiral Piett again to his quarters. Skywalker, clutching the princess who was now quietly weeping again into his shoulder, nodded, the look on his face more grim than it had been previously.

The trek through the halls of the ship felt almost interminable. Piett felt the eyes of every single person watching them as they went, and wondered if the feeling of breathlessness was his imagination, or some premonition of what was about to come.

The cold grey walls had never felt so confining before.

The group moved past Lord Vader’s hyperbaric chamber in the first room, towards Lord Vader’s barely used office on the left.

Luke seemed to be more interested in the chamber they were passing, staring at it as they walked by and then at the back of Lord Vader’s head.

“So,” Lord Vader said when they had moved into the other room. There were no seats, just an empty desk and behind it a moderate sized viewport. “You have no idea how this process began.”

“You’re not planning on keeping both of us, are you?” Luke asked, ignoring the implied question.

“There must have been some initial event,” Lord Vader pressed on.

“Because you can’t just keep keeping kids here. I mean, it was kind of fun some of the time, but we’re really prisoners.”

“And whatever effect the process had on your memory as a child seems to have diminished.”

“We should also probably find something to distract Leia because I don’t think she’s into ships as much, and I’m pretty sure she’ll get into even more trouble.”

“You have no reason to avoid offering an explanation.”

“And it’s going to be a real problem if you try and hand us both over to the Emperor, because he’s not going to believe this is Princess Leia, and he’ll probably think I’m crazy if I keep saying it.”

“ _Luke_ ,” Lord Vader crossed his arms, leather creaking slightly, “I cannot help you if you don’t-“

“Help me?” Luke’s stance shifted from something relaxed to worryingly defensive. “You _cut off my hand_.”

Piett said nothing. He thought really hard about not being there, while still acknowledging it was absolutely necessary for him to be in front of the door.

Lord Vader turned to the viewport. “The circumstances were different.”

“That’s not an apology,” Skywalker snapped. “And how you can think, after everything that happened-“

“I am including in my calculations the events of the last several days,” Lord Vader said, hands clenching tight behind his back. “I would think you could extend some trust.”

Piett thought about the last several days and everything that had happened and had questions about how Lord Vader had come to that conclusion.

Shifting Leia higher in his arms, the boy said, “That doesn’t count. I didn’t remember anything.”

“But you remember now what you did and said when you were… small?”

Hesitation. “Mostly, yes.”

“Mostly?”

“Sometimes I have to think about it for a bit.”

Piett mentally reviewed all the meetings Luke had been in, all the parts of the ship he had explored, Lord Vader teaching him how to use the navigational controls of an Imperial warship and hoped that Skywalker needed to do a lot more than just think about it for a bit to remember.

“I see.” Lord Vader said, not showing any particular concern. “The princess does not remember anything?”

Luke sighed. “If what happened to her is like what happened to me, probably not. I don’t… I don’t know why I remembered what I did and what I didn’t.”

“Possibly, it was what your mind could handle. But,” Lord Vader turned around, “since I don’t know what you did to cause this, I cannot be sure.”

The rebel laughed. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

“I… have never seen this before. But that does not mean I cannot make an informed guess. If you tell me what happened.”

It took Luke long enough to decide to speak that the princess looked up from his shoulder and took her time glancing around the room. She spent extra time observing Piett, who found her gaze unnerving, and next to no time looking at Lord Vader. As she looked, she kept tugging at the metal band hanging around her neck. Luke eventually took her hand to make her stop.

“I was thinking,” he said softly, stroking the little hand with what had to be the thumb of his prosthetic one. “About Bespin. And what happened. And why.”

He looked up for some sort of acknowledgement from Lord Vader and got a nod.

“We were on Tatooine, getting- getting ready to get Han. I was out… working on something.” Piett hoped Lord Vader would ask about that, but he did not. “I wandered a bit in the desert, remembering what it was like when I grew up. Wondering… wondering how it might have been different.”

He was not looking at Lord Vader now, but Lord Vader was definitely singularly focused on Luke. It might have been possible for Piett to just leave, if he had been so negligent of his duty.

“I-I didn’t know what to do. Not about Han, but after. What to expect. So- So I asked the desert for help. And it answered.”

“What?” Lord Vader did _not_ sound pleased.

Skywalker rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Never ask for gifts from the desert. I wasn’t thinking about that just then.”

To Piett’s horror, Lord Vader buried his face in his hands. “You asked the _desert_. You are trained in the _Force_.”

“Yeah, well I trust the desert,” Skywalker managed a half shrug. “I still don’t know much about the Force.”

“They’re the same thing,” Lord Vader pronounced, looking up. “Their power is the same-“

“Yeah I get that,” Luke shifted Leia to the other side and Piett glanced around the room, wondering if there was something other than the desk they could put the girl on. Nothing stood out. “It’s just easier to think about it as the desert when I’m there. It’s what I knew. What I grew up with.”

Lord Vader’s hands went behind his back again. “That is… fair. So what happened?”

“Localized dust swirl,” Luke sighed. “Not a real sandstorm, just woosh. Next thing I know I have no idea where I am or how I got there and its hot and I’m scared out of my mind. Some random strangers found me, picked me up, hauled me off to Jabba to see if I was worth anything, and then-“

Lord Vader straightened. “I arrived.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

After some pacing between the desk and the viewport, Lord Vader said, “I can understand, in theory, what may have happened to you. That it transferred to the princess makes no sense.”

“No kidding.”

“Admiral Piett.”

He didn’t jump, but did have to straighten now that he was being addressed. “My lord?”

“Retrieve what security footage you can from the hangar from during the escape. Also, I will require any footage from the princess’s cell.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And any footage of these rooms,” Lord Vader added. “Since they are apparently _not_ as childproof as they are supposed to be.”

“Oh, I can tell you how I got out,” Luke said, smiling now. “You forgot to lock the door. And everyone ignored me because they were busy or didn’t want to deal with you.”

Lord Vader turned to Piett. “We will need to discuss appropriate behavior for dealing with non-personnel wandering the ship with the crew.”

He did not sound happy.

“I’ll put together an announcement, and also schedule trainings,” Piett promised. “Would you like me to make any particular notes about Commander Skywalker and the princess?”

“Procedure is still verbal instructions and then stun?”

“Yes.”

“Have them note the child should only be hit once. More than that could cause damage.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Lord Vader turned back to Skywalker. “Come. You need to be back in your quarters.”

“My cell?” Skywalker asked, not quite smiling.

Lord Vader nodded. “Yes. Your cell.”

Taking a deep breath, the boy asked, “Okay, but can I have a file?”

“No,” Lord Vader sounded annoyed. “I’m not putting you in a cell with even such rudimentary tools. I am not stupid.”

Rolling his eyes again, Luke pointed at the collar on the princess. “I just want to get this off.”

“You have the Force. You’re contained, not cut off.”

Biting his lip, Luke admitted. “I’m not always… precise with it. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Without a word, Lord Vader stepped forward, reaching for the princess and ignoring her squeak and recoil. Two of his fingers slipped around the band, he pressed with his thumb and there was a sharp snap. A little maneuvering and the band bent open and Lord Vader removed it.

He studied it for a moment, then in several sharp gestures crushed it into a small mass and tossed it onto the desk.

“Have that removed, Admiral,” he said, and moved to the door.

Piett quickly stepped out of the way, sliding over to the desk and grabbing the scrap.

It was uncomfortably heavy in his hand.

He followed Skywalker out of the room, but then decided he had effectively been dismissed and worked his way slowly to the exit.

“I think she needs food,” the prisoner was saying to Lord Vader. “She’s probably pretty hungry.”

“I will have something prepared at the usual time.”

“She can’t have a snack now?”

“It is unlikely we have anything she would like,” Lord Vader grumbled.

“I like fruit.”

The high pitched words were said slowly, so that each one could be pronounced with perfect, if stumbling, diction.

Everyone stopped.

Luke threw back his head and laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Nuther bitty Leia.

When Piett made it down from Lord Vader’s quarters, he found the bridge in an uproar.

In the middle of this completely unanticipated mess was a gold protocol droid, scampering about and waving its arms in the air, following the increasingly dangerous gyrations of a blue and white astromech, which seemed to be trying to find access ports that had been left unguarded.

For the first time, Piett was aware of exactly how many droid access ports there were on the bridge of the ship. It was a very concerning number.

“What is going on here?” he demanded as he strode over, wishing he had checked for messages on the way down. Someone had to have reported this mess.

“Sir,” Lieutenant Passly half saluted as he jumped in front of a port while the droid tried to take advantage of his distraction. “The droids got out of storage.”

Instead of wasting time by pointing out the redundancy of that statement, Piett gestured and five other crew members immediately began maneuvering to circle the astromech. When one of them tried to broaden the circle to include the protocol droid, Piett waved him back in, until they had a fairly tight line of containment.

The droid immediately went for Piett’s knees, but he managed to mitigate the force of impact by throwing his hands up to catch the dome and only wobbled slightly. “We have surge weapons,” he snapped at the watching bridge crew, and someone disappeared for a moment to return with the device.

It was designed for slightly smaller, more modern droids. Rather than completely shorting the astromech, it seemed to partially immobilize it, which was enough for Piett to order a retraining bolt be placed.

Throughout the entire exchange, the protocol droid had been flailing and shouting. Piett took a moment now that the immediate danger was past to actually listen.

“-can’t reason with him, not on anything of the least importance. I tried to tell him that it was dangerous to attempt sabotage while we are trapped on the vessel, but he is incredibly stubborn and-“

“What is your designation?” Piett demanded.

The droid stopped. “I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. And who are you, sir?”

“Admiral Piett. C-3PO, who is your owner?”

“That would be -oh dear should I tell you this?- Princess Leia Organa of the late Alderaan, at present.”

But who in the past? “You and the astromech both belong to the princess?”

“Technically yes, although Artoo, that is R2-D2, frequently flies with Master Luke. You could say he has only a mind of his own, however.”

Piett frowned at the smaller droid. “I will keep that in mind. You were being held for processing as collateral collected upon the capture of the princess and the crew of the _Millennium Falcon_. How did you escape holding?”

“Oh, Artoo accessed the controls for the floor and opened the doors for us.”

This was, quite simply, the easiest interrogation that Piett had ever done. But, “That is not possible. The ship cannot be accessed in such a way by an astromech.”

A series of beeps and trills were interpreted by C-3PO as, “He says that he is quite familiar with the systems that were the basis of this ship, although I can’t see how that is possible because he’s never been on anything like it. I think he's making that up.”

It would be nice to believe that, but difficult given that the droids had made it this far which meant someone had, in fact, opened the doors. Not to mention that if some reports were correct, the droids had been on the Death Star when the princess had escaped. It was theoretically possible that the astromech had connected with the system, but extraordinary that such an archaic piece of technology had managed to learn enough to actually control anything on a completely different vessel.

“In any event, you escaped and decided to make your way here to the bridge?”

A nod. “Well, that is, Artoo decided. He’s really the one always getting us into these messes.” More beeps. “Yes, I know you jammed the hangar door first, I was there.”

Piett blinked. “Jammed-“ He pointed at Artoo. “This droid is claiming he made it possible, on his own, for the _Falcon_ to escape?”

“Of course. He was quite proud of himself. Apparently it was rather difficult when Darth Vader started interfering. But he still managed it.”

There was nothing reassuring being said. Piett hadn’t thought it was possible for things to get worse after having had to leave Lord Vader’s quarters and order that any leftover fruit be brought up.

He was wrong. Things were getting much worse.

He turned to Lieutenant Passly, who was still standing by the astromech, the control for the restraining bolt in his hand. “Make sure that that droid does not move again until Lord Vader has seen it.”

The lieutenant nodded and C-3PO asked, “I beg your pardon, but is there anywhere I should be standing right now? Or anything I should do?”

Piett considered this. “You are a protocol droid, yes?”

“As you can see.”

“You speak multiple languages?”

“I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, sir.”

“Is one of them aptitude in speaking to children?”

“Oh no, sir. That I am almost no good at at all.”

Sighing, Piett said, “One can always dream.”

* * *

“Any updates, Admiral?”

It fit with the kind of luck that Piett had been having that he managed to run into Lord Vader in the hall just as he was ending his shift. Without any hesitation he made an about face and fell into step beside his commander.

“We’ve finished reviewing the _Falcon’s_ navigation systems. The data is probably not completely useless, but they have performed any numbers of jumps to misdirect their course, and there doesn’t seem to be a single point they pass through regularly.”

“Then the fleet is on the move?”

“Possibly. We were unable to determine that before the prisoners escaped.”

And it seemed that they would both be ignoring the fact that Lord Vader had two more prisoners he could have interrogated himself. Although the princess was probably not an option right now. “Very well. Anything else?”

“The droids we placed in storage escaped containment, apparently at the same time as the other prisoners. The protocol droid claims that the astromech was able to infiltrate the ships systems, keep the hangar bay doors open for the _Falcon_ , and give them entry all the way to the bridge. The astromech-“

“Artoo?”

“My lord?”

“The astromech’s designation. Is it R2-D2?”

Piett blinked and almost missed a step. “Yes, my lord.”

“Where is he now?”

“Still on the bridge, but we’ve placed a restraining bolt on him and he’s currently immobilized. The protocol droid is there as well, and he has been deactivated. Given the unusual circumstances of their movements, I was keeping them under more active supervision for the time being.”

Lord Vader nodded. “Wise. I will speak to them.”

He probably could have gotten away with leaving then. There were other details of the ship to go over, but Lord Vader hadn’t asked about them and Piett was technically supposed to be off duty. Several officers on the bridge looked at him in sympathy when he came back in Lord Vader’s shadow.

“Artoo,” their leader said, coming right up to the little droid and looking almost straight down at it, fists planted on his hips. “What have you done to my ship?”

There was no answer and Piett handed over the bolt controller he had just retrieved without being asked. Lord Vader made some adjustments and a stream of beeps poured out of the astromech.

“That,” Lord Vader said, “is because you are a menace and incorrigible. And I will not be making any adjustments to these arrangements until you have demonstrated sufficient motive to behave.”

It was not, strictly speaking, the weirdest conversation Piett had ever witnessed, especially given that Lord Vader was involved. But it ranked rather high, and Piett was almost tempted to turn the protocol droid back on to get a translation.

Through a series of beeps and whistles, the astromech argued with Lord Vader about some number of key points.

Things of note:

  * The droid had apparently not had its memory banks wiped since the Clone Wars, or earlier (useful)
  * The droid considered Luke Skywalker the best pilot (interesting, but irrelevant)
  * Lord Vader considered himself the best pilot (obviously)
  * The droid would not accept that Lord Vader was the best pilot unless he was allowed to fly with Lord Vader _again_ (what?)
  * Lord Vader was not going to allow that, his ship was not built for it (thank goodness)
  * The droid believed that Lord Vader was malfunctioning (Piett was inclined to agree with that one)
  * Lord Vader did not believe he was malfunctioning even if he wasn’t performing at peak standards (Piett never wanted to see what Lord Vader considered peak standards)



“The point remains,” Lord Vader said, finger jabbing at the top of the droid, “that if you wish to be allowed to remain active and mobile while on this ship, you are not allowed to perform any acts of sabotage on behalf of the rebellion, or the princess, or Luke Skywalker.

Piett desperately wished it was just coincidence that Lord Vader had felt the need to list those three separately.

Some thoughtful humming and low beeps later, Lord Vader said, “No, I will not allow them to dismantle C-3PO. He is more useful to me functional.”

A trill.

“You may make yourself useful if you wish, but it will be with the understanding that you are once again under my command.”

A blat.

“I did not think so. The bolt will remain in place.”

Without another word to anyone, Lord Vader turned to leave, the droid suddenly hovering and following behind him, protesting.

Piett bowed as Lord Vader passed, and meekly accepted the order of, “See that the protocol droid is led to my quarters. I will need to investigate him personally.”

There were a surprising number of volunteers that offered to escort C-3PO up, but in the interest of keeping things orderly, and because Piett did not have faith that curiosity would not overcome common sense in the face of discovering more about the now captured Skywalker, Piett ended up leading the droid himself.

It was a slow process, the blasted thing kept getting distracted, and tedious. It would not shut up. Piett tuned out as much as he could, not interested in the droid's opinion on the lack of decor, the relative rudeness of military droids, or complaints about sand in the joints.

One sentiment Piett could almost agree with though. “Oh, I wish we had never landed on Tatooine!”

“It certainly seems to have brought you a great deal of misfortune,” he conceded.

The droid nodded. “Most definitely. And it is all Lord Vader’s fault. Oh dear.”

Piett had nothing to say to that.

When the doors opened to Lord Vader’s chambers, Piett was summoned inside and C-3PO immediately called out, “Master Luke! It’s so good to see you again. We missed you terribly at Jabba’s palace. Princess Leia had to strangle the Hutt!”

Luke paused in the act of cutting a slice out of the fruit he was holding, mouth slightly agape. He looked down to his left, where the little princess sat, munching on a fruit slice. “Did you really?”

“She wouldn’t remember,” Lord Vader pointed out, returning to dismantling pieces of the astromech in front of him, a strange tone to his voice.

“Damn,” Skywalker said, shaking his head.

“Language.”

“Oh come on, that doesn’t-“

“Impressionable child,” Lord Vader pointed without looking up from his work. Skywalker rolled his eyes.

Piett should go. He really should. But he was technically not on duty right now, and he hadn’t been asked to leave, and as horrifying as this all was, it was also _interesting…_

The princess had killed the head of the Hutt family. It was probably a good thing she was completely unrecognizable right now.

“More please,” the princess held out a now empty hand. Luke placed a new slice into it, cutting another for himself. “Thank you.”

“She doesn’t have to do that every time,” Lord Vader muttered, working at the droid’s legs.

Skywalker snorted. “I didn’t have to either. How many times did you tell me to stop?”

“We were working on your pronunciation.”

“No one believes that.”

The very bizarre image of Lord Vader and small Luke trading places with Skywalker and the princess was almost too much for the admiral. Almost.

C-3PO started speaking again. “If I may, Master Luke, we seem to be captured. What exactly is it that we should do? Artoo was most unhelpful on the subject.”

Those blue eyes flashed to Piett for a moment before Skywalker answered, “We’re staying here for now. Vader has us captured, so you should probably follow his orders. Unless he asks you about the rebels. You don’t know anything about the rebels.”

“Oh yes, of course.”

“Probably best to not say anything, actually.”

The droid nodded, completely silent.

“More please.”

He had been distracted by the conversation, so it took Skywalker a moment to cut another slice and the princess huffed as she waited, turning to glare at Piett. Skywalker offered another slice. “Here.”

The princess ignored him. “Who is that?”

Her sentences were almost painfully slow, but they were perfectly clear. A very different situation than with Luke. Skywalker smiled. “That’s Admiral Piett. He’s in charge of the ship after Vader.”

Those little eyes narrowed. “Amiral Peet?”

“Close enough,” Skywalker shoved the fruit in her mouth and she squeaked, pulling it back out and sticking her tongue out at him. He poked it, making her jump, and looked up. “Sorry Admiral. I don’t think she can do better than that.”

“It’s fine.”

“At least she’s doing better than me,” he added, and Piett wasn’t sure what to do.

He settled on, “I didn’t mind. It was… cute.”

The rebel looked up, surprise in his eyes. But before he could say anything Lord Vader’s voice cut in, “Have you _ever_ cleaned out his rocket boosters?”

“Artoo has _rocket boosters_?” There was entirely too much delight in that voice.

“So no,” Lord Vader sighed. “I assume he hasn’t been refueled either. We’ll need to fix that too.”

Clearly torn between continuing to feed Leia and mechanical upheaval across the room, Skywalker said, “Is it hard to learn?”

Lord Vader looked up. “No. Although this time it might be difficult to clean him. He appears to have encountered something like swamp matter.”

“Oh, haha, yeah.”

A stretch of silence. “Would you care to explain?”

“We were in a swamp. On a planet.”

“So no again.”

Sheepish and shrugging, Skywalker just smiled. Piett took pity on him. “Commander Skywalker, if you like, I can continue feeding the princess.”

Which would also get the knife out of their prisoner’s hand, which would make Piett much more comfortable.

“Are you sure?” Skywalker asked, looking at his sticky fingers. “I don’t mind-“

Piett walked over, holding out his hand. “I am capable of cutting fruit. And handing it to her.”

“Is that okay?” Skywalker asked the princess. “If Admiral Piett helps you?”

There was a long, careful scrutiny from those brown eyes. “I s’pose.”

Piett bowed. “Thank you, your highness.” He accepted the fruit and the knife and cut another slice.

“Thank you,” the princess said primly, leaning to try and look around him to where Skywalker had gone. Piett moved to make the task easier.

“I’m surprised you didn’t discover the rocket boosters,” Lord Vader was saying.

“I mean, I’ve never been in charge of his major repairs. So I mostly upkeep what he uses.”

“I see. Well, there appears to be damage to these mechanisms, which would prevent them from extending and recoiling properly, so we’ll need to see to that once we get this cleaned out.”

Piett stood at careful attention, listening to an unending litany of “More please,” and “Thank you,” as he watched Skywalker, carefully making sure the boy didn’t pocket any of Lord Vader’s tools.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bitty whoops.

Lord Vader was positioning the last cover panel on the astromech when Skywalker suddenly looked up and asked Piett, “How many of those has she had?”

Looking down at the princess, Piett realized her whole face was covered in fruit juice, as well as her hands. She was grinning, but there was something uneasy to it. She held out her hand, “More please.”

Piett looked over at the bowl he had been pulling from. Looked back at the princess. “I think you have had enough.”

He had no idea how many fruits he had cut for her while standing there. His own hands were sticky with juice. That was not a good sign.

“I want more,” the princess was frowning, hand waving up and down a bit. Her words were as careful as ever and Piett thought there was a note of authority to them. She added, “Please.”

It was the most demanding please he’d ever heard.

“I think you’re done,” Skywalker said, coming over and picking her up. “How many have you had?”

Leia looked over to the bowl beside Piett, down to her stomach, cocked her head, and spread her hands as wide as they could go. “This many?”

“Plenty,” Skywalker said, shaking his head, and giving Piett a sidelong glance. “You’re definitely done.”

“No,” the princess protested, gripping Skywalker’s shirt in her sticky hands. “I want. More.”

Skywalker shook his head. “No, Leia. You’re all done.”

“No!” She smacked him on the face, right in the eye.

He flinched, and Lord Vader stood, striding over. “You do _not_ -“

“No, Leia,” Skywalker cut Lord Vader off, taking both the princess’s hands in one of his. “No hitting.”

She lunged forward, trying to bite at his nose. Skywalker dodged and eased her down, still holding her hands. Piett found himself disturbed by the ferocity of the child.

Skywalker knelt in front of her and took her chin with his other hand. “Please don’t do that. It hurts.”

The princess wriggled, looked around, stuck her tongue out, dropped onto her butt, sniffed a few times, and tried to tug her hands free. “Let go.”

“Are you done hitting?”

Instead of an answer the princess whimpered. Skywalker seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing at Lord Vader then back to the princess. She whimpered again.

“This one,” Lord Vader said, “is unarguably not my fault.”

From where he was standing, Piett could have sworn that Skywalker rolled his eyes. “Is that really the most important issue?”

“I just want it clear,” Lord Vader said, “because you blamed me last time.”

“Because you hit her with a blaster bolt.”

Lord Vader raised a finger, stopped, and crossed his arms. “She shot first.”

“Come on, Leia,” Skywalker said, tugging her hands gently. “Are you all done hitting?”

The princess nodded morosely.

“Okay, good. Thank you.”

Before he could pick her back up, Lord Vader was saying, “She has to apologize.”

Skywalker looked back. “For what?”

“The hitting. She hurt you.”

Skywalker gave Lord Vader a long, hard stare. Without turning back to look at the princess, he said, “Leia, do you know how to apologize?”

It took a moment, but the princess wormed her way up, placed a kiss on Skywalker’s cheek and mumbled, “I sorry.”

He ruffled her hair. “Thank you.” Then he was looking at Lord Vader again. “Your turn.”

Piett couldn’t breathe.

“What?” Lord Vader said.

“Your turn,” Skywalker repeated. “To apologize.”

“I am not going to apologize when she-“

“You hurt her,” Skywalker said firmly, “so you should apologize.”

Three respirated breaths. “She doesn’t remember that I did it.”

“She remembers being hurt,” Skywalker countered. “She’s still injured.”

Changing tactics, Lord Vader said, “I’m not apologizing to her if I haven’t apologized to you.”

The look on Skywalker’s face was impossible to interpret. “You’re not sorry about it.”

“No, I-“ Lord Vader looked away, towards the droids. “I did not mean to do that. Even if it can be replaced, it is hard to lose a hand.”

“Your hand is lost?” Leia asked, anxiously looking around at the floor.

Skywalker brought up his right hand. “No Leia, it’s right here. It just got hurt a bit, see.”

He pulled up the sleeve of his borrowed clothes and showed her the faint pink band where his prosthetic joined with his arm. The princess very carefully touched it, brows furrowed. “He hurt it?” An accusatory finger was leveled at Lord Vader.

“He did,” Skywalker confirmed. “A while ago.”

The little princess crossed her arms, imitating Lord Vader’s pose with an accuracy that had Piett’s lips twitching. “Say sorry.”

Lord Vader would never take orders from the child, and Piett was curious how he would resolve this dilemma.

“It was not intentional. I did not mean to hurt him. He is fine.”

The princess was unmoved. “Apologize.”

She couldn’t help but stutter a bit over the word, but Piett couldn’t have been more impressed. He’d never met anyone who would demand an apology from Lord Vader. Twice.

Maybe they should reconsider keeping the children. For training purposes.

It took another thirty seconds, and Skywalker had just looked away when Lord Vader abruptly said, “I’m sorry. I did not mean to… harm you.”

This wasn’t real. Piett could tell every other soul on this ship and no one would believe him. It was probable no one would believe him ever. Lord Vader would deny it. No one would accept Luke Skywalker as a witness.

Lord Vader had just apologized, possibly for the first time ever, to a rebel criminal, and Piett was one of two people to witness it.

Well, and the droid. And technically the princess. If she remembered.

Said princess was nodding sagely. “Now kisses.”

“What?”

Skywalker seemed to choke on a laugh, even as the princess pointed to his hand and said, “Kisses better. After sorry.”

“He is alright now,” Lord Vader said. “He does not need… kisses.”

The word did _not_ sound right coming from that mask. Not right at all.

This did not seem to bother the princess. She grabbed Skywalker’s hand, pointed at the red line, and said, “Still hurt. It needs kisses better.”

She held that hand out, expecting what Piett couldn’t possibly know. As far as she knew, Lord Vader didn’t even have a mouth. Did she expect him to press his faceplate into that line? If Skywalker had been in pain, wouldn’t that have made it worse?

These were safer thoughts than indulging the brief image that had exploded in Piett’s brain as she had spoken. He hoped Lord Vader hadn’t noticed.

He must not have. Because rather than choking the life out of his trembling admiral, or arguing with the girl, he seemed to be readying a step forward.

Was he, was he actually going to do it? Would Skywalker let him?

Was any of this real?

Piett, shifted slightly, wondering, in these circumstances, what the hell was he supposed to do?

The noise caught Lord Vader’s attention and his sudden, “Admiral,” suggested he had completely forgotten that Piett was actually still in the room. “Were you able to get the footage prepared?”

Mind jumping with miraculous accuracy back several hours, Piett found that order and pulled it from its mental file, mouth moving before he even realized he knew the answer, deftly ignoring the violent topic change. “Yes, my lord. It should have been sent to you by now. At least, most of it. I believe we are still working on cleaning up the footage from the hangar. There seems to have been some sort of interference.”

“Of course,” Lord Vader said, turning away from their prisoners. “Let me know when it has been finished.”

“Yes, my lord,” Piett answered, noticing Skywalker hushing the princess, a broad smile on his face. “Do you require anything else?”

“Not at this time,” Lord Vader said. “I will work with the droids some more. I may have you review the events of the last few days with the protocol droid after I have spoken to him. To make sure his story does not change.”

Piett blinked. “Can it?”

“With this droid,” Lord Vader nodded. “It most certainly can.”

Oh dear. They really weren’t supposed to be able to do that. What twisted, esoteric mind had programed that feature?

“I will bear that in mind, my lord.”

A moan from the princess caught both of their attention. She was holding her stomach, tears creeping into her eyes. Skywalker was stroking her hair, trying to pull her close. “Come on. Let’s have you lie down. You’ll feel better after a nap.”

Lord Vader looked back at the bowl on the table, then to the girl. “I don’t think that will help.”

Skywalker half turned. “You have a better plan?”

“I’ll take her back to medical. They’ll have something that will help.”

“And tell them what?”

“That it’s all your fault,” Lord Vader said, shrugging.

The way Skywalker smiled, he must have thought Lord Vader was teasing. “I gave her two. And a half. I’m pretty sure the rest was Admiral Piett.”

“Obviously I won’t tell them that,” Lord Vader said. “I need him in working condition.”

Was that… a joke? Was Lord Vader actually teasing the boy? And joking with him? On purpose? It made sense that Skywalker had been trying to do it. It was in his nature. And his best interests as a captive. But Lord Vader?

Was Skywalker winning?

Hoping to prevent some unknown, growing calamity, Piett said, “My lord, I am willing to take full responsibility. I was supposed to be paying attention.”

“Your attention,” Lord Vader replied, “was exactly where it should have been. I assume you made sure that nothing went missing while we were working on the droid.”

He would rather not discuss this in front of Skywalker, but Piett nodded. “Of course.”

“Good. Then we will not lose him this time.”

Piett was not stupid enough to not see that as a warning. “Yes, my lord.”

“Come, princess. We will get your fruit problem fixed.”

Lord Vader moved to pick the girl up, but she hid behind Skywalker, who seemed perfectly happy to just watch whatever game might spring from this attempt at hiding. But Lord Vader was out of patience. He lifted the child in one of his invisible holds, making her shriek and writhe as she moved through the air.

“Enough,” he told her. “You are fine.”

She settled some, but struggled in his hold as he grabbed her. He moved so that she was clamped firmly against his chest, chin not quite resting on his shoulder, arms held at her sides, feet more flailing than kicking.

“She doesn’t like that,” Skywalker pointed out, standing. “She’s gonna get upset.”

“I can live with that,” Lord Vader said. “You, back to the room.”

Ignoring that imperious finger, Skywalker offered, “I can come with you. I was a big help last time.”

“Prisoner,” Lord Vader said succinctly. “Not one I’m going to make everyone else’s problem.”

“I can-“

“Stay here and wait until I get back.”

“She’s gonna cry.”

“I’m prepared for that.”

“Please, can’t I just-“

This time he was cut off by a choked cough, and then a retch. Piett watched in horror as the princess heaved not once, but several times, sending partially digested fruit all down Lord Vader’s shoulder and back.

No one moved. Except the princess, who sobbed, face sitting in the middle of all that mess. Even Skywalker looked horrified.

Lord Vader peeled the girl away from his shoulder, offering her to the rebel. “Here.”

Skywalker took her without a word, holding her carefully to avoid, as much as possible, the mess. “Guess you’re not heading to medical.”

“Not yet,” Lord Vader agreed. “Admiral.”

Datapad out, half bowing Piett managed, “Right away, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

Piett tried not to think about how that might be the first time he had ever been thanked in this job.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bigger whoops.

They made it through twelve more days with no more mishaps, other than the princess escaping once and making it to one of the main hangars. Troopers on duty claimed she was looking for more fruit, and had managed to coax her into coming with them instead of having to stun her.

Which was good. The medical staff were still upset about the fruit incident.

Piett was very grateful Lord Vader had lied on his behalf.

They were nominally on a hunt for more rebels, but Piett honestly couldn’t say he knew what they were looking for. Lord Vader had requested a series of increasingly random jumps, with some that put them perilously close to being out of safe range of military bases where they could resupply.

Almost as if… as if Lord Vader were trying to _avoid_ Imperial attention.

Skywalker continued to be contained in Lord Vader’s quarters, to the spare room when Lord Vader was abroad in the ship and to the other rooms when Lord Vader was there to supervise. The princess was always with the rebel.

Unless she was sneaking into the hangar bay looking for fruit.

“Any new instructions, Admiral?” Lieutenant Passly asked, looking over the bridge crew. “Things seem to be running smoothly here.”

Piett checked the notes from his last meeting with Lord Vader. “Not yet. It seems we’ll be in this system for a few days, monitoring four different planets for potential rebel activity. We may need a couple of landing crews ready if Lord Vader requests any specific investigations.”

“Very good, Admi-“

There was a yelp from across the room and the sound of several people shifting. Piett moved toward the trench, tensing as he asked, “What seems to be the-“

The cadence of communication was slower, the voices higher pitched. Everyone was looking down, only one ensign was moving, half crouched near the floor.

Dammit.

“It’s the princess,” one of the officers called up, his eyes pinched and expression still.

Lord Vader was much more insistent that the princess’s movements be limited than he had been with Luke.

“Lieutenant, contact Lord Vader,” Piett instructed. To the crew below, “I’m coming." He did not sigh, did not allow his shoulders to slump. He didn’t think about how hard it was to find a comfortable kneeling position for an elongated argument with a small child.

He didn’t think about how much practice he’d gotten with that in the last few weeks.

Princess Leia was tucked under one of the communication stations, curled up to be as tiny as possible. In her bright red dress, Piett wasn’t sure how any of them had missed her. “You aren’t supposed to be down here, your highness. If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you back upstairs.”

Her tiny nose jutted into the air. “I want to go home now. Please”

Still not used to those pleases that had the absolute air of a demand, Piett almost grimaced. “I can’t take you home, your highness. I can only take you back to Comman- to Luke.”

“No,” Leia's hands clutched her skirt against tightly curled knees. “I want to go home. Not Luke.”

Well, that one didn’t work anymore. Last week she had been perfectly fine being distracted by spending more time with Luke. And R2-D2. Even C-3PO. “I’m afraid Lord Vader isn’t going to allow that.”

Those tiny lips trembled. “I want. To. Go home.”

A single tear slid down and Piett felt like the ugliest monster in the galaxy. “Princess-“

“Problems, Admiral?”

Lord Vader’s timing could have been better, but Piett stood anyway and executed a proper greeting. “It seems the princess has wandered out again, my lord. I thought you’d want to know so we can review how she escaped.”

“I do,” Lord Vader said, staring at the console. “She is down there?”

Surprised because Lord Vader was generally aware of the exact location of everything on the ship with a minimal amount of concentration, Piett nodded. As he did, the princess peeked out from her hiding place, scowling.

“I want. To go home.”

That was clearly a demand, and Lord Vader was a poor choice of someone to direct demands at.

“You cannot go home,” he said, hands on his hips. “You may go sit with Luke while he works on Threepio, or you may sit in your room.”

Patience clearly expired, the princess threw herself on the floor and slammed her first down. “No, I go home!”

There was no Alderaan, Piett thought bleakly. No mother or father waiting, worried about their rebel princess. No one to miss her and realize she was gone. If not for the rebellion, Princess Leia could be on any ship speeding through the galaxy right now and no one would even notice. Or wonder why this tiny child resembled the rebel princess so much. Or, or anything.

She would never go home.

The thought stuck, crystalizing in an odd way. Piett had more or less given up on Skywalker or the princess leaving their custody. Lord Vader wanted them and would keep them. Presumably until they submitted to the will of the Empire, or died ignominious traitor’s deaths. Realistically speaking, they were never going home. Because home was either here or no where.

But for the princess, and even for Skywalker if Piett remembered correctly, there was an additional reality of having no home to return to.

Piett liked his job. Felt fulfilled and even a little noble serving for order in the Empire. Doing his best. But if he wanted to return to Axxila, to see family and old friends, he could.

Neither the princess nor Skywalker could ever go home again.

So he had mixed feelings as Lord Vader responded to the girl, “No, Princess. You will stay here.”

“No!” the princess screamed. “No no no no no no no!”

The litany went on for several seconds, tiny hands banging onto the floor until suddenly there was an extra thud as one of the fists came down and the princess shrieked.

Where her hand had landed, there was a fist sized divot in the durasteel floor.

Lord Vader swore and grabbed the child.

“Of course,” he growled, throwing her over his shoulder, ignoring her squeals of protest. “Of course you’re like this.”

Without another word to anyone he stormed off, the princess bouncing as she screamed and scrabbled at his cape.

Someone whimpered.

“Ensign,” Piett made sure he had their full attention. “Is something wrong?”

Ensign Dorsky shifted a little, staring at Lord Vader’s exit, then letting his gaze drift to the princess’s hiding spot. “Should… should we tell her? That it’s gone?”

Dodging that question with what was getting to be too much practice, Piett said, “No. Lord Vader will inform her if he finds it pertinent.”

“But sir-“ the ensign trailed off, looking at everyone else. “How can she not know?”

Probably the most pertinent question anyone had asked about Luke or the princess in their whole time on board. “I don’t know. The workings of this matter are more Lord Vader’s expertise than my own. Which is why I am deferring to his judgement.”

That and he _ran this whole damn ship_. But Piett tried to sympathize with the crew in this moment. The irregularities were straining everyone’s nerves. And with Lord Vader more frequently watching over their… captives, the crew had naturally responded more readily to Piett’s authority.

Which was good. For now.

And when Lord Vader was less distracted, he would find the ship running in good order, ready to respond to his every command.

Piett hoped.

* * *

It was two hours later that Piett was summoned from composing a ship-wide update memo on how to deal with misplaced passengers who were less than three feet tall to deal with the wide-eyed panic of crew members who had heard yelling from Lord Vader’s quarters.

Sustained yelling. For the past twenty minutes.

Not sure what he would do, but knowing he needed to reassure everyone, Piett made his way to that imposing double wide door, lips thinning as he realized that the yelling was still going.

The voices were alternating, frequently cutting each other off, and clearly belonged to Lord Vader and Skywalker.

When two minutes passed with Piett waiting for an opening, a lull in the muffled argument, and none appeared, he chimed. Twice, when the first one went unnoticed.

The door suddenly slid open and Piett could hear, “-don’t get to pretend you have anything better to do!"

Skywalker was facing Lord Vader, face flushed, fists clenched, very much in the commander’s personal space. He glanced towards Piett, took another step towards Lord Vader and continued, “You don’t get to-“

His words were cut off by a black gloved hand and Lord Vader asked, “Do you have something to report, Admiral?”

Oh, fu- “No, my lord. I was advised that there were some anomalies that were concerning the crew nearby.”

He meant to offer assistance in some way, but the words couldn’t make it past his throat. Commander Skywalker was working on the hand, trying to pry even a finger loose. He didn’t seem to be succeeding.

“Which crew member?” Lord Vader did not sound pleased.

“No one by name, sir,” Piett desperately hoped he hadn’t just consigned an entire shift on this floor to an untimely doom. “It was reported as a general concern. If the situation is normal, I will relay it to the crew.”

Lord Vader took his time answering. “The situation is not normal. But it is being handled.”

“Very good, my lord. I’ll see to it that things carry on.”

He made a hurried bow, and noticed Skywalker staring at him as he turned to leave. It almost felt like there was disappointment in those eyes. Did he think Piett was going to stand up to Lord Vader? Not everyone was as crazy as Skywalker was.

* * *

The incident haunted larger and larger sections of the ship. Rumors spread and there were serious questions as to why Skywalker’s body hadn’t been hauled out yet.

A shouting match with Lord Vader was something no one should survive.

Piett received his first hint as to what the fight could have been about when he reported to Lord Vader that he had not only sent a memo, but scheduled more training for the crew for if the princess got loose.

“She will not,” Lord Vader said firmly. “She is being completely confined from now on. She cannot be trusted.”

Piett thought about that, and the sudden image of a small, blue eyed boy expressing deep boredom came back. “Not even with Skywalker to watch her?”

Lord Vader looked up and Piett felt ice sing down his spine. “He has chosen to be confined as well.”

That… made no sense. They were prisoners. They didn’t get to choose- “Will we be giving the princess into different custody?”

It seemed safer than asking what they would do with Skywalker. Lord Vader shook his head. “She is leverage for keeping Luke on board. She will be needed if he tries to escape again.”

Piett wanted to point out that having one other person with him had never seemed to slow Skywalker down before. But he wasn’t stupid. “Yes, my lord. Do you require anything, given that their movements are now more restricted?”

“No. I will keep an eye on them.” Then, “No, wait. It would be better if we could separate them. If the princess is confined to the room, we might be able to move Skywalker. You will discuss that matter with him.”

“My lord?” Surely, that was something that could simply be done.

“You will find a way to present to him the idea that it is unwise for him to remain in such close proximity to the princess, even while she is in such a state. He will not trust such an argument coming from me, but I believe you can convince him.”

Well, that made one of them. “I will certainly try, my lord, if that is what you wish.”

“Yes.”

So Piett found himself entering Lord Vader’s quarters, unescorted and with the oddest mission in the world. And the strictest command to not let the princess out of the room when he entered.

As a precaution, Piett locked the main door and made his way to the spare room. When its door slid open, there was a shriek and a thud as the princess tried to make a dash for the opening and Skywalker threw himself on top of her, ignoring her screaming.

“Leia, you can’t, he doesn’t want- Admiral?”

“Commander Skywalker.”

The princess stopped her screaming and looked up from the floor, expression mutinous. “I want out, Amiral Peet.”

There was a flow to the first words which suggested they had been said. A lot. “I’m afraid I can’t let you out, Princess. I’m here to speak to- to Luke.”

She wriggled and squirmed and Skywalker kept holding her, trying to be comforting but mostly just saying no. A lot.

Piett closed the door. The princess sagged and started to sniff. Skywalker picked her up and put her on the bed.

The one bed. The only bed in the room.

Maybe… maybe Lord Vader was right.

“What did you need to talk to me about, Admiral?” He looked genuinely curious.

Piett struggled. “I’ve been asked to find you a different situation on the ship. Somewhere else to keep you.”

That earned a look. “Pretty sure you don’t need my input for that. I didn’t actually see that much of the ship.”

“I was also asked to explain why,” he added, hoping he could find the words to do this. “There are some… concerns with leaving you and the princess alone together.”

Skywalker’s brows went up. “Pretty sure that’s not going to get better by moving me and leaving Leia near Vader.”

Piett knew that. But, “None the less, this is the plan. It’s in everyone’s best interests.”

“No, it’s to make sure Leia stays locked in a room she can’t break out of with the Force.”

Wait, “What?”

Now Skywalker was looking surprised. “You were on the bridge. Didn’t you see her?”

That little fist hitting the floor. He- he’d mostly ignored it honestly. Filed it away under a rash of things that just weren’t as important as others because he’d have to ask Lord Vader about it and that meant materially damaging his odds of staying alive. “It… wasn’t necessarily obvious. To someone with little experience.”

“Oh,” Luke looked worried. “He isn’t talking about it?”

“No. Lord Vader has not seen fit to explain most of his decisions regarding you or the princess. I believe it is because much of the information is simply too sensitive for anyone else to have it.”

The boy snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” A sigh. “Well, then I won’t keep threatening you with more of it.”

“I appreciate that.” He really did.

Skywalker smiled. “I probably also shouldn’t ask you to see if you can reason with him, have him go easy on her. I know she’s Alderaan’s princess, but right now she’s really just a kid. She can’t keep living like this.”

The room had no space and no toys. No viewport. The bedding was strewn across the floor, probably because it was the only thing in the room that could be thrown by someone having a tantrum.

“I- I can ask Lord Vader, but I doubt he will change his orders. Especially if the princess can… use the Force.”

“She’s not trained,” Luke said, shaking his head. “She’ll use it on instinct, but doesn’t really know what to do with it. Actually, it’d probably be safer if she was trained. Less likely for anyone to get hurt. I’ve been working with her, but I know that won’t work in an argument. He wants me to stop…”

Piett wished he knew how to explain that this was the exact sort of information he was probably not supposed to have. “I doubt that Lord Vader wants you in some place you are likely to get hurt, and you are currently her only visitor, besides Lord Vader.”

“You think that?”

It took a moment for Piett to realize what he had said that had earned that response. “That he doesn’t want to you hurt? Certainly. He was very sensitive about it when you were young.”

“Yeah, but not now.”

“He did have you examined when you… grew up. And was very angry at the princess when she hit you. Honestly, I’ve never seen anyone get away with any of the things you’ve said to him. If he wanted you hurt, he already would have done it himself.”

Skywalker looked down at his right hand, the prosthetic Piett realized with a grimace, and then back up. “You really believe that?”

That almost sounded like… hope. “Based on my current observations, yes.”

“Oh.”

The princess had been kicking her feet against the bed, sulking. She shuddered suddenly and whined in a way that had Piett looking for a receptacle of some kind.

“Leia,” Luke said, moving towards her, “what’s wrong?”

The moment he touched her Piett’s vision twisted. Everything looked horribly wrong, he felt like he had been caught in a strong wind, and then-

The princess fell off the bed, full grown and swearing, shaking all over. Piett scooped the blanket off the floor and threw it over her, trying to stay at a safe distance. She wrapped it around herself, then moved to grab little Luke, who was shaking and crying on the floor next to her. “Hey, it’s okay Luke. It’s okay.”

The boy looked up. “Amirable Peet?”

Piett’s comm went off and he answered it. Lord Vader said, “Report.”

“There may be a bit of a problem with your request for me, my lord. The situation has… changed.”

“I will be right up.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real big whoops.

It was actually twenty full minutes before Lord Vader made it up. Piett was out in the main room, holding Luke as the princess got dressed. He had tried waiting for Lord Vader first, but Luke’s inability to hold still made the effort of preserving modesty more than Piett’s nerves could handle at the moment.

He did not need anything else on his plate to try and forget.

“‘Ader,” Luke lunged as soon as the door opened and Piett put him down, not thinking until afterward that he might get reprimanded.

He wasn’t. Lord Vader didn’t seem to notice Piett as he crouched, reached for the toddler, and brought the boy up to settle against his shoulder. “Hello Luke.”

There was altogether too much snuggling going on, Piett decided. This was Luke Skywalker. He should not be cuddling Lord Vader. “I mis’d you.”

“Did you?”

A nod. “Yes. Lots.”

Lord Vader looked at Piett then, and the admiral said, “I told him you were coming, but I wasn’t sure when you would get here. He was not enthusiastic about waiting.”

“I see.” Lord Vader made no move to put Skywalker down. “The princess?”

“Getting dressed,” Piett said.

“Still?”

Deciding he had no desire to explain how long he had waited in that room with the princess wrapped only in a blanket, Piett said, “I haven’t checked since I stepped out. I was waiting for your orders.”

“Very well.” Lord Vader crossed the room and opened the door, one hand raised. This proved to be excellent foresight, since the moment the door slid open, a blanket came flying out.

Piett was not easily distracted, and when the princess flew through the door ducking beneath the blanket that Lord Vader had caught, Piett tackled her.

He immediately regretted it.

While he was able to mostly pin her down, she managed to get her knee into his hip and then his gut before a weight settled over both of them. Wheezing, Piett was grateful when the weight lifted enough for him to stand, wishing he could clutch his side.

That had _hurt_.

“I would appreciate it if you would not injure the admiral. He is much more useful to me than you.”

Breathless but belligerent, the princess laughed, cold and hollow. “I’ve never been of any use, or value, to you.”

“Not quite true. You have had a few uses.” Lord Vader looked at Luke, who was staring wide eyed at the princess. “This time, at least.”

“Bastard.”

“Language.”

“That does _not_ count.”

Lord Vader pointed a finger at Luke, “Impressionable child.”

“He’s twenty-three and swears like a kid raised around Hutts.”

She gasped as Lord Vader’s hand twitched. Luke whimpered, tugging at Lord Vader. “No. Tha’s Leia.”

“She is alright,” Lord Vader reassured the child. “I am just holding her.”

“That _hurt_ ,” Luke retorted, reaching for Lord Vader’s arm. “No more.”

Before Piett could blink, the princess was off the floor, arms flailing as she tried to catch her balance. Lord Vader grabbed one of her arms and started dragging her back to the room, ignoring her protests.

“You can’t just keep me-“ Her voice disappeared as Lord Vader tossed her in and the door hissed shut behind her. Luke whimpered a bit.

“She will be alright,” Lord Vader said, his hand resting on Luke’s head. “But she must stay in the room.”

Squirming, Luke tried, “I like her.”

“I am aware. But she must stay in the room so that everyone will be safe. So you must not open the door.”

The boy didn’t seem enthusiastic, but he nodded.

“Promise, Luke.”

“Promise,” he muttered.

“Very good. Admiral Piett.”

Piett straightened. “Yes, my lord.”

“Inform the pertinent members of the crew that the prisoners’ situations have changed. I will be taking Luke down to the medical bay for an exam.”

Glancing at the door, Piett asked, “Would you like me to have the princess escorted down as well?”

It seemed like the answer would be no, but eventually Lord Vader said, “Once Luke has finished, I will escort her down. You may keep an eye on him while I do.”

Oh, well, “Very good, my lord.”

* * *

Piett was sitting crossed legged on the floor, helping Luke arrange various tools that had been used on the droids sitting in the corner in order of function and size when Lord Vader came back with the princess.

She was gagged. Piett stared.

“Leia?” Luke was clearly curious.

Removing the gag, Lord Vader said, “She was being rude to the medics.”

“I was not.”

“Insulting their chosen profession-“

“I was insulting the Empire, not their profession.”

“Their profession as Imperial medical officers-“

“Have you ever met a trained medical worker who was more concerned about their allegiance than treating people that wasn’t terrible at their job?

Piett could see how things had deteriorated so quickly. “Do you require anything else from me, my lord?”

He hadn’t tried standing yet. He probably should, but it would be awkward and he wasn’t sure how stiff he was.

“No. I will take over from here. Have your reports ready at the usual time.”

Preparing to stand, no matter how embarrassing it would be, Piett was surprised to hear the princess say, “Aren’t you supposed to be running this ship? Not sitting around playing with children.”

“I am running this ship,” Lord Vader answered, starting to drag her back to the spare room. “And I have not spent any of my spare time playing with children.”

Well, at least not since the princess had been the small child. But Piett wasn’t about to bring up all the adventures with Luke that she had missed.

“Right,” the princess did not sound convinced. “Of course.”

“Move,” Lord Vader said, pushing her towards the room.

She resisted as much as she could, calling out, “Luke!”

He was already watching her, but the boy scrambled up when she called for him. “Leia?”

“I love you,” she shouted across the room as Lord Vader tossed her back into her cell and the door shut behind her.

Luke’s hands bunched in his shirt, and his lip wobbled. He looked at Lord Vader, and then back at the door. “Leia?”

“No, Luke. You cannot see her. She needs to stay in the room.” There was an implacable note in Lord Vader’s voice that Piett was all too familiar with.

But Luke was not. “But-but-but- I love her.”

“I am sorry, Luke. I cannot let you be with her. It is not safe.”

“Leia’s safe,” Luke countered, hands wringing his shirt now. “’S very safe.”

“Yes, she is safe now that she is in her room. And she will stay safe if she stays there.”

Looking doubtful, Luke asked, “We take her home?”

“No. She must stay on the ship, Luke.”

“Leia’s _sad_ ,” Luke tried, inching forward and tugging at Lord Vader’s cloak. “I don’ wan’ Leia sad.”

Piett watched Lord Vader’s hands twitch a few times. He knelt. “I’m sorry, Luke. But I need you to be safe, and so Leia must stay in her room, even if it makes her sad.”

Luke, little Luke, Luke _Skywalker_ Luke, stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around Lord Vader. “Don’ be sad. I lo- I _like_ you.”

It was almost a sob, and Piett could see that Lord Vader had noticed the boy changing his word. In a movement that seemed so surreal and yet somehow, at this point, so perfectly right, Lord Vader pulled Luke closer, stroking his head. “I know. I’m sorry.”

This was hell. Piett was officially in it.

* * *

The one, one, good thing about this round of young Luke Skywalker was that Lord Vader seemed more prepared to keep the boy away from most of the rest of the ship. Luke was frequently left in Lord Vader’s quarters under the observational care of C-3PO, who while not really equipped to be a playmate for a rambunctious child, was at least paranoid enough to comm Lord Vader _before_ Luke got himself into too much trouble while left to his own devices.

It took a couple of days to figure out the exact parameters they needed to set so that Lord Vader was not being interrupted every ten minutes by the droid’s paranoia. But overall, it seemed to work.

So Lord Vader wandered among the crew more, and because he was physically present, while the crew had more questions, their talk diminished quite a bit.

Piett was deeply relieved.

“You look like you could use this.”

General Veers slid into the seat next to Piett in the officer’s lounge, handing over a cup of caf. Piett had hoped it was liquor, but technically he had a shift after this.

“Thank you.” Taking a sip, Piett eyed the general, trying to compose a list of most likely questions.

“Any news from the princess?”

Not the first question he’d been expecting, but, “Not that I’m aware of. It is possible that Lord Vader interrogates her when he has the time, and that is why we’re on our present course. But he hasn’t seen fit to clarify that to me.”

Veers muttered something that sounded like some choice swears and Piett chose to ignore it. He was enjoying his caf. “She really switched again with the kid?”

The feeds of what had happened in the hangar had eventually been tagged with exceptionally high security clearances, but word and the images had gotten around fast. “Yes. We have an adult rebel princess on board as well as a young Luke Skywalker.”

“Talk about luck,” Veers sighed. “We run all over the damn galaxy looking for the brat, and Lord Vader picks him up on Tatooine of all places. As a midget.”

Someone was testy. “I suppose everyone’s luck runs out,” Piett mused. “Skywalker was bound to get caught at some point. Lord Vader is nothing if not persistent.”

“Yeah, but as a baby? Cuddling up to his lordship and claiming he _loves_ him?”

That- that was not supposed to have gotten around the ship. “It… is certainly outside the realm of what I would have guessed.”

Veers snorted. Glanced at Piett. “You have any idea what you’re doing at this point?”

“I honestly assumed I was dead. Six months ago. More? I don’t know.” He set the cup down. “I hope I do. At least we haven’t lost any crew.”

Not since Luke Skywalker had first arrived. There’d been a few close calls this week, but nothing had actually happened.

Piett was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

“How many lives do you think we could have saved if we’d caught Skywalker as soon as we’d gotten his name?” Veers asked.

Piett thought about that. “A few. For a while. I- I don’t think this is going to last.”

“No?”

“No,” Piett sighed, spinning the cup slowly. “I think that Lord Vader is waiting for something. And we’ll see someone die as soon as it happens.”

“Waiting for what?”

“If I knew,” Piett said, standing, “I’d do everything in my power to prevent it.”

“Would you kill Skywalker?”

And that was definitely a pointed question. “Right now? It would be… difficult. But if he were a threat…”

Piett didn’t finish the sentence and Veers didn’t push him. Which was good.

He wasn’t actually sure how he would have ended it.

* * *

It was the middle of the day and the middle of a surprise equipment inspection when an officer ran up to Piett and said, “Feed 4, sir.”

Piett took one look at the security footage and pulled out his comm. “Lord Vader.”

“Admiral.”

“Skywalker turned on the astromech.”

Piett was already moving, detailing to Lord Vader pertinent information from the footage. Footage of the floor for his quarters, where an astromech was gliding down the halls, a small blonde child latched onto its back, clinging to the dome.

“Lock the floor,” Lord Vader said, and Piett had the sudden feeling someone was going to die today.

“The droid can get through our locks,” the admiral stated after he had repeated the order.

“It will slow him down.”

Not much. Lord Vader had been doing ship inspections in one of the lower hangars. By the time he reached the correct floor, Skywalker and the droid were cruising around a lower level. Piett reported the change and Lord Vader started to make his way down.

The problem was the next floor was twice as large, and the droid was gaining momentum.

Had Lord Vader adjusted its maximum speed? Piett hoped not.

Lord Vader was two corridors away when the droid made a sharp turn. Luke, who had been barely hanging on by his fingertips at that point, flung off the side of the droid and slammed into a wall.

Piett gasped, and Lord Vader must have noticed because he started running.

By the time Piett reached them, Luke had been roused from unconsciousness and was screaming.

His right hand had been crushed.

It was wires and sparks now, and the boy was staring at it in horror, jerking as if he were trying to get away from it. Lord Vader was holding him, pressing something against a gash in the boy’s forehead.

“Luke,” that deep voice finally penetrated the screams and Luke looked up, eyes dilated and shaking all over. “You will be alright.”

“I’m broked,” the boy wailed, shaking his arm. Lord Vader grabbed it to hold it steady as the broken mechanical fingers waved around. “I’mma droid an’ I’m broked.”

Carefully holding Luke against him, Lord Vader said, “You are not a droid. Your hand is mechanical. It is damaged. You need to hold still.”

That couldn’t possibly have been hysteria in Lord Vader’s voice. Surely not.

Tears now flowing freely, Luke asked, “You fix it?”

That hand, that murderous black hand, tenderly bushed the tears away. “I will fix it. Or we will get a new one.”

“A new hand?” Luke sounded awed. Then frowned. “A real one?”

“It will be mechanical,” Lord Vader said.

“Like this one?” Luke asked, waving his left hand weakly.

They didn’t have a prosthetic on board that would fit the boy. They certainly didn’t have one with synthskin and biofeedback like his old one.

“No,” Lord Vader said, with that strange gentleness he so often had for Luke. “More like this one.”

The glove on one of Lord Vader’s hands slid off. He flexed the fingers and rotated it to let Luke see the metallic joints, to hear how it clacked slightly. Sagging against Lord Vader, drained from shock, Luke still lifted his good hand to touch Lord Vader’s mechanical one, fingers sliding against the durasteel.

“Like you?” Luke asked in a tiny voice.

“Mechanical,” Lord Vader said, moving as medical officers arrived, waiting for permission to approach. “It will be mechanical, like mine.”

“Oh. Okay.”

With no further objections, Luke’s head dropped against Lord Vader’s chest and the boy closed his eyes.

Piett stared at the glove on the ground, ignoring the frantic beeps from the droid around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am maybe a terrible person...
> 
> Thanks so much again for all of your comments. They continue to be a delight. Seeing your reactions to the twists and turns of this story has been so much fun. And seeing your predictions, perfect. I'm really glad you've been enjoying reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leia is pissed.

It was two hours later that Piett finally dared to go and check on Lord Vader and Luke. He made it to the medical bay in time to catch the tail end of some careful reassurances that, while he couldn’t have one now, Luke would be fitted with a new hand as soon as possible.

“T’morrow?” Luke asked, staring at the stump of his arm with the metal plate on the end.

The medic looked to Lord Vader briefly. “I don’t know. But you will get one.” And then, under Lord Vader’s stare, “I promise.”

Cheered by that solemn pronouncement, Luke reached for Lord Vader, who carefully picked him off the table. Without another word, he turned to leave the room. He didn’t speak, but did gesture for Piett to follow him.

“My lord?” Piett asked, falling into step beside the two.

“I will need you when we get back to my quarters. I’ll have to deal with the princess.”

Oh dear. That did not sound good. “Surely she won’t know what happened until we tell her.”

“She knows.”

While he wanted to file that under “impossible,” all it took was one look at the juvenile Skywalker to remind Piett that impossible was a standard that had been broken repeatedly in the past few weeks.

He didn’t really hold much store in it anymore.

The door opened to the sound of C-3PO saying, “Oh, thank goodness you’ve found him. I’ve been so worried,” and a dull thudding from the opposite side of the room.

There were dents in the door to the spare room. Slight bulges from the inside.

“She certainly knows something,” Piett muttered, and nearly jumped when Lord Vader snorted.

Without a word, Lord Vader handed over Luke, taking the time to switch C-3PO off as he walked by. Before he opened the dented door, he raised a hand and there was another thud from inside, quieter than the others.

Piett made sure the door out of the room was locked.

“Where is he!” the princess shouted as soon as the door moved. Piett couldn’t see her, but he got the impression she was moving towards Lord Vader. “What did you-“

The door didn’t open all the way. The dents she had made caught in the frame about halfway, which made it easy for Lord Vader to block her path as she tried to get through, covering her mouth and holding her back.

It almost looked like she was limping.

“Leia?” Luke called out, leaning in Piett’s arms to try and get closer. “Whas wrong?”

There was a muffled sound from behind Lord Vader’s hand and the princess jerked forward. She couldn’t escape his hold, but she was certainly trying. “He’s fine,” Lord Vader said. “And if you will stop flailing about like a wild animal, you may see him.”

The look he got in response was pure, unbridled suspicion. He didn’t respond to it, and eventually the princess relaxed slightly, easing back. Lord Vader let her go.

“Admiral.” Piett came forward at that, making sure to keep Luke steady. He was still trying to get to the princess, even ignoring Lord Vader in the process.

The princess froze, eyes widening in horror as she spotted Luke’s missing hand. She stepped forward again, and Lord Vader blocked her, keeping her within the confines of the room. She glared up at him. “What did you-“

“ _He_ ,” Lord Vader said, words slow and precise, “turned R2-D2 on and attempted to ride him through the halls.”

Anger was replaced by a twisted smile as the princess turned back to Luke. “Of course you did.”

“I broked it,” Luke said solemnly, holding his arm out for her to inspect now that they were close enough. “V’ader says I-I- get. A new one. T’morrow.”

“I said I don’t know,” Lord Vader corrected, crossing his arms. “We have to wait for a hand that is the right size.”

Or a Luke that was the right size for the limited prosthetics that they did have. The boy looked uncertain, but nodded. “I have to wait. Lots.”

Glancing at Lord Vader, the princess tentatively held out her arms. When there was no interference, Piett handed the boy over. She took a step back from Lord Vader then, holding Luke tightly, wincing slightly as she put weight on her right leg.

“Are you okay?” Leia asked, fingers brushing over a pink line on Luke’s forehead.

He nodded. “All better. All better here,” he pointed at his head, “here,” his leg, “here,” his upper arm, “here,” his toes. He looked at his stump. “This s’okay. Not broked. Just waiting.”

Her color was poor, Piett noticed as the princess dutifully inspected all of the places Luke showed her. Glancing at Lord Vader, Piett wondered if he should say something.

Probably not. It wasn’t like Lord Vader was unaware.

“Now what?” Leia asked quietly, letting Luke lay his head on her shoulder, his eyes drooping.

“I promised that he could see you, so he would know you are alright. You will give him back and we will return to our duties.”

The smile she gave should have been sweet, but there was something sharp in it. “And leave him under whose supervision? Now that Threepio’s failed to keep him safe?”

“Artoo has been moved elsewhere,” Lord Vader said firmly. “Without him to open any doors, Luke will be safe.”

Until Luke figured out how to open doors by himself. Or get to R2-D2, Piett thought, imagining another wild escape attempt through the halls. Or if the droid got to a ship… Luke had already proven that on his own he could get to the hangars.

“You really shouldn’t be in charge of children,” the princess said, her tone dry. “You have no idea what to do with them.”

“I have done just fine-“

“What exactly would have happened if Artoo had gotten somewhere he could use his rocket boosters, and then he’d dropped Luke?”

Piett almost stopped breathing at the image that came with those words. Lord Vader’s hands creaked as he clenched them. “That did not happen. Luke. Is. Fine.”

“For how long?” Her gaze didn’t waver, and Piett could see there was a real question in them. How long were they going to continue like this?

Lord Vader shrugged. “As long as it takes.”

“That,” Leia snapped, “makes no sense.”

“If you don’t like the answer-“

“Liking has nothing to do with it. You’re not answering the question. You’re not telling the truth.”

“Name one time I have lied to you since you got on this ship, Princess,” Lord Vader was almost snarling.

“I didn’t say you lied,” she shot back. “I said you’re not telling the truth.”

Apparently not in the mood for a battle over semantics, Lord Vader held out his arms. “Luke.”

The boy looked up, hesitated, then reached out for Lord Vader. Princess Leia handed the boy off, but was obviously unhappy about it. Now it was her turn to cross her arms, glaring at Piett and Lord Vader.

“You should have just told her,” she said at last.

Lord Vader settled Luke against his own shoulder. “What?”

“Told the little princess. That Alderaan was destroyed.”

Piett wondered what it said about the princess that she viewed this incident as if it were happening to two different people.

“I doubt she would have believed it,” Lord Vader said.

“She would have eventually. And she deserves to know why she’s never going home.”

It took a second before, “Alderaan being gone is not the reason that you are on this ship.”

“The reason,” Leia said slowly, “that I am on this ship, is the exact same reason why I will never go home.”

No one had anything to say to that.

* * *

Piett found Lord Vader two days later lurking in a dark corner of a storage room, arguing with R2-D2.

“I understand that you do not want to give me information on the rebels, but I need full access to your memory banks so that I can know what happened to Padmé.”

Even if he hadn’t choked slightly saying the name, it still would have stunned Piett to have heard such a familiar form of address coming from Lord Vader’s mask. The name had some other significance, but not enough that Piett could immediately place it.

R2-D2 was apparently no help in this matter. His beeps and shrieks had Lord Vader slamming a fist into the wall, almost shouting, “I know what I did to her! That’s why I need to know-“

He stopped suddenly, head whipping around to find Piett standing nearby. The admiral froze.

All the training, all the practice these last weeks pushing through when the impossible was suddenly happening and falling back on habits that had never failed him, and now he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find words. Couldn’t even remember why he was here, looking for Lord Vader.

“Did you need something, Admiral?”

Death was written in every word that came from that mask, and Piett desperately searched his memory for what had brought him here. It wasn’t fair. He’d survived this far, his brain couldn’t give out now. They even had Skyw-

Oh, right. “My lord, the chief medical officer says they put together a list of parts that would be needed to assemble a temporary hand for young Skywalker. If we were to stop on-“

“No.”

It was clear and concise and permitted no questions. “Very well, my lord. I will inform-“

“We don’t know if a new prosthetic would resize properly should he and the princess switch again. There's no clear answer to why the old one did, and I am," those mechanical hands flexed, "not confident a new one will do so. If the medical staff have any objections, you may tell them they can come directly to me.”

Bowing with as much precision as he could, Piett answered, “Yes, my lord,” and turned to flee with as much dignity as he could manage.

“And Admiral.”

“Yes, sir?”

This was it, he wasn’t going to make it this time.

“No, nothing. Carry on.”

Piett forced himself all the way to the medbay and through his message before he allowed himself to wonder if that “her” was the mysterious Padmé or the princess, and what exactly Lord Vader had done to them.

* * *

C-3PO was lying on the floor, arms thrashing and stiff legs kicking when Piett opened Lord Vader’s door to give an afternoon report. Lord Vader’s head was in his hands and Luke was giggling on the floor, sometimes imitating the droid, and others just shaking uncontrollably.

“Oh, please, please help. This is not funny at all, Master Luke. Really how could you be so cruel? Oh, where’s Artoo when I need him?”

“Amirable Peet,” Luke was still laughing as he pointed, “look!”

With a level of consideration that Piett had not been expecting, Lord Vader actually physically helped the droid to stand, giving a quick inspection when he had finished.

“It is no small wonder you are still functional,” he said, examining the back of C-3PO’s head and checking the joints of his arms. “When you can be so easily bested by a child.”

“Yes, well, I think I was built for a child, so perhaps that has something to do with it.”

Piett and Lord Vader both stared. “What?”

“I can’t be sure. My memories have been wiped enough that I don’t really have a clear recollection of my original activation. But there is one memory left, now that I think of it. At least, I think it’s a memory. I suppose it might be an image that was uploaded. The boy looks quite a bit like Master Luke, I think, but obviously is someone different. I didn’t even meet Master Luke before you captured the princess over Tatooine looking for the Death Star plans.”

There were too many important things, Piett realized, that seemed to happen around Tatooine. What was it about that planet that made it home to such… mischief?

Also, “I thought you said you didn’t have an aptitude in your programing for working with children?”

“Oh, I don’t, Admiral,” the droid agreed, nodding its head. “But I don’t think that precludes me being built for a child. You don’t have to be good with children to watch over them. Only think of the poor princess. She had a dreadful time as a child here, I’m sure.” He looked to Lord Vader. “Perhaps it is because she is female. You don’t seem to have nearly so much trouble with Master Luke.”

It was a wonder, Piett mused, that the droid hadn’t been torn to pieces.

“V’ader?” Luke asked, tugging at the cloak. “Who bilt Theepio?”

Lord Vader stared down at the boy and did not immediately answer. “I did.”

What?

“ _You_ did?” Luke’s eyes were huge in his face. “You _did_?”

“I don’t remember that,” C-3PO said, sounding a little disturbed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Lord Vader said, turning back to the droid. “When I was… younger. I built you to… be a protocol droid.”

That was _not_ what he had been about to say, but Lord Vader had apparently remembered that Piett was still standing there, and now the admiral was almost desperate to know what would have been said if he had not been present.

C-3PO seemed to consider this. “So does that mean I am your droid?”

“Yes.”

“Oh dear. The princess is going to be very upset about that.”

She was.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leia is less pissed.

It was a testament to how long things had been so bizarre that at the end of one of his reports to Lord Vader Piett asked, “We’re keeping the astromech deactivated. Why can’t we just slice its memory banks?”

The temperature drop was a warning, but Piett was starting to not notice anymore. There was only so long the body could sustain the levels of neuroticism and anxiety needed to avoid Lord Vader’s ire, and Piett had simply been spending too much time in that state to maintain it anymore.

This time, he was rewarded. “Artoo has set himself up for deliberate sabotage if his memory banks are manually accessed. We’ll lose all the data we needed.”

“Surely even if he can damage the systems-“

“His circuitry is wired to superheat and completely melt down all of his components related to data storage should he be breeched.”

Piett’s mouth moved, but it took a moment before he could ask, “Why?”

Lord Vader turned to his viewport and stared into space before answering, “He was captured on multiple occasions during the Clone Wars. Or ended up in enemy territory. He decided it was the best way to protect his allies.”

Decided? Droids didn’t just decide-

Right. Impossible. Not applicable here anymore. “You… worked with him during the Clone Wars?”

The great mystery that was Lord Vader tended to blur into nonexistence before the official start of the Empire. It was tantalizing to realize there was someone on the ship, aside from Lord Vader, that knew details of that past. Had intersected with it.

And horrifying.

“I flew with him,” Lord Vader said. “He was my designated astromech.”

They were such tiny details. And yet.

And yet they implied _so much_. That Lord Vader had flown, regularly, during the war. That he’d been important enough to have his own droid. The droid in question was comfortable flying with Skywalker, which made so much more sense if it had once flown with Lord Vader. There was the implication that somehow Lord Vader had _lost_ the droid, possibly related to- to the Padmé he had mentioned.

To say nothing of the reality that while there had been career military personnel and volunteer militias brought into the war, it had been predominantly run by _Jedi_ and _clones_ which implied, as much as the lightsaber that Lord Vader always wore, that he had been- had been-

And the droid _knew_. Which meant, “Then, the rebels have access to your records from the Clone Wars.”

Which explained a hell of a lot about how the droid had bypassed their security, actually.

“No,” Lord Vader said, turning back around. “He believes those files are corrupted, and will not discuss them.”

“Corrupted?”

“Capable of producing erratic and undesirable behavior if they are shared, especially in binary because of its nature as a language. He does not wish to initiate such an effect.”

“Oh.”

“He is wrong. The memories themselves are not corrupted. But it will take more persuasion before he is ready to believe that.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And the release of the princess,” Lord Vader added, almost absently.

“What?”

“So I have determined that it is more worthwhile to allow him to retain the memories. For now. When we return to Coruscant, I will have access to the necessary equipment to avoid the sabotage setup.”

Piett perked up. “We’re returning to Coruscant?”

Lord Vader did not answer right away. “Eventually, yes. This is a ship, Admiral. Of the Empire. When he wishes it, the Emperor will recall us.”

Oh. Well, at least that established some expectations. “Very good, my lord.”

“Dismissed, Admiral.”

* * *

“Amirable Peet,” Luke slammed into Piett’s legs as the door to Lord Vader’s office closed, grinning up at the admiral. “Hello.”

“Hello, Luke. What are you up to?”

“Col’ring,” Luke said, pointing with his arm to some flimsies scattered over the floor. “Watch.”

With a precision that said the boy had been practicing, he used the Force to draw a series of lines on one of the sheets. From across the room.

“Very- very good,” Piett said, smiling as best he could. Luke’s grin widened.

“You col’r?”

“Oh, I really can’t,” he said, and Luke’s face fell. Piett patted his head, an almost instinctive gesture at this point. “I must get back to work.”

“Lat’r?” Luke asked, arm tightening around Piett’s leg. “Pleez.”

“I will have to ask Lord Vader for permission,” Piett hedged, honestly unsure at this point if his commanding officer would allow it or not. Lord Vader was erratic when it came to permission for interacting with Luke.

“I ask,” Luke said, darting into Lord Vader’s office. Piett sighed, staring across the room to the door to where the princess was being kept.

The dents had not been fixed. Lord Vader said the jamming was probably for the best for now. He would fix them later. Himself.

Piett put effort into not thinking about that. Or about the young woman who was still trapped on the other side.

Luke had been allowed to see her, infrequently. For brief periods.

It was a wonder she hadn’t already gone completely mad.

“He said no,” a dejected Luke slumped out of Lord Vader’s office and collapsed on the floor, staring up at Piett and blinking tear-filled eyes. “You’re busy.”

“I am,” Piett said, trying to make the words an apology. “But thank you for showing me your coloring. It was very nice.”

Recovering with his usual ease, Luke scrambled up, smiling. “I practice. Get better. Draw Amirable Peet.”

Not sure how to feel about that, Piett said, “That is very kind.”

“Drew V’ader,” Luke said, summoning a sheet and displaying it proudly. It was, roughly, a black humanoid outline with colored dots around what was probably supposed to be the torso. And a silver line, possibly representing a lightsaber.

Since the boy was clearly waiting for a response, Piett said, “That is a very good picture,” just as Lord Vader walked out.

There was a long silence between the two men, interrupted by Luke saying, “Look,” and shoving the picture in Lord Vader’s direction. “’S you.”

“I see,” Lord Vader said after a moment, glancing down at the boy. “It is very… black.”

Luke giggled, clutching Lord Vader’s cape. “’S for you. My fav’rit.”

He snuggled up to Lord Vader’s leg. Piett apparently still had it in him to be surprised because he felt slightly faint.

“Thank you, Luke,” Lord Vader said. “I… will keep it.”

Deciding that he didn’t actually want to know where Lord Vader might keep it, Piett decided to bow and make his escape.

He was not fast enough. “I love you,” Luke said as the door to the hall opened.

Piett caught Lord Vader’s low, “I know,” before it slid shut.

* * *

It was two days later and Piett was running to the nearest hangar bay with a squad of troopers when a desperate wail echoed down the halls, bringing a sense of probably misplaced relief.

It wasn’t one of Luke’s wails. Which meant they had switched again.

And just in time.

The admiral and the troopers entered the hangar to find Skywalker cradling the miniature princess in one arm, letting her touch his other one to explore where his hand was supposed to be. He looked up gratefully when Piett grabbed a tarp off the nearest crate and draped it over them unceremoniously, speaking into him comm, “We have them, Lord Vader. Skywalker and the princess are both in custody.”

Piett was a little surprised. Skywalker could have grabbed the girl and boarded the nearest ship. Flying naked wasn’t high on the list of things Piett was willing to do, but with the Force Skywalker could probably even have dragged the panicking protocol droid on board and had the ship closed and started before they arrived. That would have been enough to get out before they could close the hangar, or activate a tractor beam.

“You are not going to be deactivated,” Piett told the protocol droid when he had finished answering Lord Vader’s questions. “Please stop shouting.”

C-3PO immediately complied. “I am very confused,” he confessed. “I tried to tell the princess that I was Lord Vader’s droid, but she wouldn’t accept it and was quite insistent that I follow her. And then she took Master Luke, and I couldn’t leave him. I was told to watch after him, and-“

“Yes, thank you,” Piett said, still catching his breath. “You did very well.”

The droid was probably what had slowed them down enough that the princess and child hadn’t escaped. “Did I? I’m really not sure.”

“Skywalker is here,” Piett gestured to the boy, who was watching the two of them with grim amusement. “Lord Vader will be pleased that he did not escape. And you did not let him out of your sight.”

This only seemed to partially reassure the droid. “I wish Artoo were here,” he lamented. “He would know what to do.”

Piett was very glad the astromech was _not_ here. That would have been much worse.

The troopers were cautious as they waited for more instructions, keeping their blasters pointed at the prisoners, but Skywalker didn’t seem to be making any more effort to escape. The princess had quieted down pretty quickly and seemed content to just snuggle for now, one of her hands caught in Skywalker’s hair, tugging it intermittently.

He didn’t seem bothered. Just… tired.

“You said,” Lord Vader’s voice cut through the silence, “that she did not have above average mechanical expertise.”

Skywalker smiled, genuinely amused. “I also said she was a quick learner. And you left her alone. For days. What did you think she was going to do?”

Lord Vader held out his hands for the princess and Skywalker hesitated. “You have one hand,” Lord Vader pointed out, and Luke reluctantly handed her over, standing and keeping the tarp wrapped around him.

“Do I get a new one now?” Luke asked, sounding hopeful.

“We will speak with the medical officer and see what we can do.” After a moment Lord Vader added, “It will not be like the one the rebels provided you.”

“I know,” Luke’s grin was still there, but something had changed in his eyes. “They like me.”

Lord Vader’s grip on the princess tightened and she yelped, smacking him on the chest. He muttered something that might, possibly, have been an apology and then turned, stalking out.

It was probably telling that Skywalker needed almost no help getting to the medbay from the hangar. His guards were hard pressed to keep up with him.

A quick checkup later confirmed two things. They did have the proper resources to fit Skywalker with a temporary prosthetic, and they had not collected enough data, in spite of multiple switches, to even begin to speculate on what was changing the rebels.

Lord Vader was not pleased.

“You can’t be surprised,” Luke said later, when they were back in Lord Vader’s quarters, his lordship working on the spare room’s lock, muttering occasional curses. “I told you, I asked the desert. Even if this is happening with the Force, she’s not going to let it stop until she gets what she wants.”

Lord Vader actually looked up at that. “And what do you think the desert wants?”

“A Skywalker,” Luke answered, calm and concise and _pointed_ and Lord Vader immediately looked away.

“She had one,” Lord Vader grumbled, adjusting some wiring. “She sent him here.”

“Yeah, well, she wants him back.”

Piett didn’t pause his careful strokes brushing the princess’s hair, but he did glance anxiously between the two other men, wondering.

“Maybe,” Lord Vader ground out, hands settled on either side of the lock, “she should not have _let him go_.”

There was a particular menace to those words and Skywalker flinched slightly. But his jaw set as he answered, “But then he wouldn’t be _free_. She doesn’t enslave her children.”

“No,” Lord Vader agreed, one hand squeezing into a fist. “They do that to themselves. To protect what is right.”

“To protect what they love,” Skywalker corrected, fingers rubbing just under the empty space on his other arm. “Because life is a choice.”

“There is no promise,” Lord Vader started snapping pieces back into place, “that you will protect what you love.”

“No,” Luke agreed. “But there is always the choice.”

Lord Vader might not have seen it, but the boy looked at the princess then, who stared at him with a puzzled look. He smiled at her, grief and pride on his face, and Piett thought about that. Allowed himself to think about it, where he wouldn’t think about what else has been said.

To think about Alderaan, and the rebellion, and which one the princess really loved. Or if… if there was room in her heart for both.

He’d read the report now. He knew she was asked to choose one of them, to deny the other.

She’d been lied to, but she technically had chosen both. At the expense of herself.

Piett loved his duty, probably more than anything else. He knew he might die in the execution of it. He still wasn’t sure it was the same thing as what the princess did.

What she was doing, every time she tried to escape.

The fact that she’d stayed trapped here every time.

“It is repaired,” Lord Vader said, his hands working over the dents in the door until they laid flat and smooth again. “You may both go in now.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to be alone with her.”

There was a question beyond the teasing in that tone, and Lord Vader turned with his hands on his hips. “You have apparently already done enough damage.”

“You want me to watch her.”

“Threepio is not up to keeping her under control.”

Luke cocked his head. “You really built him?”

It earned a very hesitant, “Yes.”

Glancing over to where the protocol droid was standing in the corner, Luke shook his head. “That… really explains a lot. Actually.”

“If you are finished,” Lord Vader gestured to the room, the movement quick and sharp.

Skywalker just smiled. “I’m not going to run away.”

“Your immediate actions-“

“Leia said we were going on a spaceship,” Skywalker shrugged, still grinning. “You think I was gonna say no?”

The shrug that was a sigh made its appearance. Piett put the brush down, moving the princess so that she could scurry over to Luke and clutch at his legs.

“You are,” Lord Vader almost sounded amused, “very susceptible to riding on spaceships.”

Then he turned and left abruptly, pressing the door key into Piett’s hand on the way out. Piett eyed Skywalker, hesitating. “You really aren’t going to try and escape?”

“I can’t,” Luke said regretfully. “It’s a hostage situation. I’m no good with those.”

Looking at the princess already in Skywalker’s arms, the droid standing only a few feet away, and thinking of himself as the only object between Skywalker and the door, Piett was grateful the astromech was being kept somewhere else.

“That does make things difficult for you.”

Moving into the spare room with casual ease, Skywalker placed the princess on the bed, glancing around the room. “Leia’s a lot better with it,” he said, poking her nose. “She already knows how to live with the consequences.”

The princess squeaked, batting at Luke’s hand. Piett sidestepped the obvious thoughts to come back to, “You don’t think you could.”

The look in the boy’s eyes was incredibly guilty. “I don’t want to have to. And she’s always made sure I don’t.”

Piett wondered if that was actually kind of the princess, but didn’t ask. “You have a very good friend.”

“I have a lot of them,” Skywalker was smiling again, and it was so warm Piett was envious.

* * *

The noise on the bridge mostly hid the drumming of feet against the wall of the trench. Piett dutifully ignored everything going on behind him, carefully checking in at every station. It kept most of the others from looking back, and he hoped was also reassuring.

Knowing who she was, everyone was anxious with the princess present.

But with Skywalker being fitted with his new hand, there really wasn’t anywhere else she could be at the moment where Lord Vader could keep an eye on her.

So she alternated between following directly behind Lord Vader, trying to step on his cloak as he walked, and sitting on the floor, not really watching anyone in particular, but making those little noises children seemed so eager to create.

At one point Piett did look back, hoping that the whump he had heard wasn’t the princess falling off.

She hadn’t. She’d just thrown herself back and was lying on the floor, watching the blue streak of hyperspace stream by, feet still thudding into the wall.

“If you stay like that,” Lord Vader said, coming to loom over her, “you will be stepped on.”

There was no verbal reply, but Piett thought he saw the princess stick her tongue out as he turned back to the console.

“You need to get up,” Lord Vader insisted, and Piett glanced back to see a large boot carefully nudging the princess, working its way under her and then flipping her over. Not up.

The princess giggled. Then shrieked as she was picked up into the air with the Force and placed carefully on her feet.

It worked for maybe three seconds, before she deliberately collapsed across the floor again, spreading out to be as obnoxious as possible.

Piett did not laugh, but his lips might have twitched a bit.

He caught Lieutenant Passly also grinning and gestured so that the man would turn away from the scene.

No need to let Lord Vader catch them amused.

“Princess…”

There was another shriek, more of a gasp this time, followed shortly by another thump, and Lord Vader’s harassed, “Up.”

Another sound as she was Forced up, but instead of a thud this time, Lord Vader said, “No!” and Piett turned in time to see the princess begin to fall off the wall. She was caught of course, by Lord Vader. But he did not seem nearly as amused by her antics as she was.

“Enough,” he said, grabbing her arm and dragging her along as he moved, ignoring her protests and the little fingers that pried at his large hands. Her attempts to make him drag her didn’t fare any better. As far as dead weight went, she didn’t even slow him down. Eventually she started drumming her feet against the floor as he pulled her, wriggling back and forth.

It was… almost cute.

“Let go,” Piett heard as he went back to work, moving to the next station. Then, when there was no answer. “Let go, _please_.”

“No.”

“I said please.”

“You did not stand up when you were told.”

“ _You_ didn’t say please.”

There was a cough somewhere in the room. Piett glanced around to try and find the culprit.

“ _I_ am in charge. I do not need to say please.”

“You _should_. It’s _polite_.”

She said polite with a certain gravity that made Piett think she had heard it in exactly that tone many times before.

“Will you,” Lord Vader said with careful slowness, “please stand up.” There was a long-suffering sigh and then a scrambling sound. Then, with that same slowness, “Thank you.”

The princess had the audacity to giggle.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It won't end like this...

More days passed. Piett wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to be doing, but he found that if he just did exactly as Lord Vader said and spent most of his time pretending they didn’t have two Force sensitive captives on board, he could mostly work around it.

The crew had even adjusted, making less furtive glances each time Lord Vader passed by and accepting that, whatever dark magic had brought about this chain of events, they at least had the good fortune of not being expected to do anything about it.

“People are like that,” Skywalker commented, rubbing his new hand as though he could make the metal joints more responsive. “Resilient. Give them something to do, and they don’t worry as much.”

Piett wished he hadn’t said anything, had just dropped off the commander and the princess’s meal. “It doesn’t seem like it should be as easy as that,” he sighed, glancing to the door where the princess was being kept. “Especially for something… like this.”

Watching Piett carefully, still rubbing his metal fingers, Skywalker said, “He might be doing something about it. With the Force.”

Piett blinked. “What?”

“Influencing the… atmosphere. Encouraging people to forget. Or not notice.”

“But then you might escape,” Piett protested, horrified that something like that could be happening on his ship.

Skywalker just laughed. “He probably doesn’t expect you to really be able to hold us. Not if we try and get out.”

“We’ve kept you here so far,” Piett tried not to sound defensive as he remembered the times the princess had tried to escape. “We could do it again.”

A brief look conveyed Skywalker did _not_ believe that, but he only said, “I promise I’m not going to run away, so it’s a moot point.”

There really wasn’t anything that Piett could say to that.

* * *

“This is all we could find,” Piett said, placing the small box on Lord Vader’s desk. “We might be able to pick something up if we… stop. Somewhere.”

He didn’t need to be told no. He could feel it in the pressure in the room.

Lord Vader flicked through the spare parts, not appearing very impressed. “We will make do, for now. It is probably better if Luke’s hand is not completely up to his usual standard.”

“Will it-“ Piett swallowed his words, not sure he wanted to bring this up.

Lord Vader looked up. “Admiral?”

“You said, before, that you weren't sure of the consequences if we gave young Skywalker a new prosthetic and then he switched sizes again. Are you- Has that… feeling changed?”

Even without the growing tension in the room, Piett would have struggled to finish the thought. Imagining a small Luke with a too large hand, partially-

No. No he would not think about that.

“I will bear it in mind,” Lord Vader said. “It is perhaps something that-“

But he never finished the thought. Admiral Piett stayed for another minute, waiting for further instructions, and eventually simply bowed and left.

He wasn’t entirely sure that Lord Vader noticed.

* * *

The princess was up in the middle of the night, cranky and hurting and Lord Vader had forbidden Skywalker from holding her unless absolutely necessary. Since Piett holding her and trying to soothe her seemed to be working, it was not deemed absolutely necessary, so both of the prisoners were sulking.

And Piett was going to be exhausted on his first shift.

It was fine. He could do this.

“I don’t see why you can’t let him go back to bed,” Skywalker grumbled, watching Piett and the princess from his place on the floor, his right arm propped on his knee, the metal fingers occasionally twitching.

“We don’t know when you will next switch back,” Lord Vader replied from his seat in the hyperbaric chamber. It was open, and only the light from inside lit the room, casting everything in washed out, almost sickly tones. “Since you haven’t had success adjusting to your new hand, it would be better-“

“You could get me new parts,” Luke suggested, sounding unusually bitter. “Or a better hand. It’s not like you don’t owe me one,” he grumbled into his arm.

With his back to the hyperbaric chamber, Piett couldn’t see if Lord Vader responded in any way to the accusation. But he felt the princess shudder against his shoulder, as if she could feel something Piett could not. He patted her back a few times, and tried not to be upset when she whimpered.

“Is she asleep yet?” Lord Vader asked after a moment, and the princess looked up at him, growling a little.

“She’s not going to sleep if _you_ keep talking,” Skywalker pointed out, and Piett heard Lord Vader shift. The princess tucked her face against Piett’s neck, and he tried not to flinch at the feeling of her wet cheeks.

He wanted to say that she probably wouldn’t go to sleep anyway. Every time she started to relax against him, the princess would suddenly seize and start awake again.

If it wasn’t such a danger to young Luke, Piett might have risked throwing the princess at Skywalker and just running for it.

Damn whether or not it was dignified.

“Mama,” the princess sniffled and Skywalker’s head came up, his lips pressed tightly together, his gaze drifting to Lord Vader.

Piett tried to adjust his grip, but she just curled tighter against him, now definitely sobbing.

“Mama!”

“You cannot see your mother,” Lord Vader said, and Piett turned towards him, frowning slightly. Surely this was not the time.

The princess looked up. “I can,” she snapped. “I can see Mama. I go _home_.”

The petulance was bad, but the sobbing hiccups were worse, partly because now her nose was running and then she smeared it with her hands and then it was _all over Piett’s shirt_.

He was barely still professional enough not to shudder at that, but he did freeze as Lord Vader stood abruptly and crossed over, taking the princess’s face in his hands.

“You will not go home. There is no Alderaan. It has been destroyed.”

She tried to jerk out of Lord Vader’s grip and kicked Piett firmly in the gut, making him grunt. Skywalker had stood and was standing closer, as if he wanted to reach out.

“No!” The princess smacked at Lord Vader’s hands.

“It is gone,” Lord Vader continued, and Piett marveled at how he ignored the princess’s rising tone. “It is gone, and so is everyone on it and you cannot have them back. They are dead, and you will never go home.”

She was screaming now, not quite wordless and full of denial. The third time she kicked Piett Lord Vader took her, pressing her against his chest and forcing her head onto his shoulder. Luke came forward, but Piett held him back, shaking his head when Skywalker looked ready to protest.

The screaming and crying continued for several minutes, then dwindled into wretched sobs of “Mama,” and “Papa,” and “No, no, no.”

Piett couldn’t decide if it was worse watching the princess, or Skywalker. It was like both their hearts had been broken and were bleeding out in the expressions on their faces.

“I am sorry, Princess,” Lord Vader said in the middle of it all, stroking her back. “I am sorry you can’t go home.”

Something in Skywalker softened and he took a step back, watching the child and Lord Vader. Her sobs were quieting even more and her hands clutched at his cape, rather than trying to push him away.

Piett actively tried not to think about it. He was too tired to process as he should.

The princess had finally settled down and seemed to actually be about to fall asleep when Piett’s comm went off, loud in the quiet. He moved immediately to cover the noise and with some difficult gestures tried to ask for permission to step into Lord Vader’s office. He received a nod and moved quickly, hoping that whatever this was, it was incredibly important.

* * *

It was.

* * *

“Lord Vader,” Piett almost scrambled out of the office, but tried as much as he could to reclaim his dignity under his superior’s scrutiny. “The Emperor has arrived.”

Piett had been in a room when Lord Vader was angry. Had felt that slow creeping ice reaching towards his heart.

This was being plunged into frozen blackness. For a moment, Piett literally could not see anything, and when his vision returned he was gasping for breath. Skywalker was supporting him, hand pressed against Piett’s chest, a worried look on his face.

“Easy, Admiral,” the boy said, stepping back as Piett stood straight again. “You okay?”

“Yes.” It was the only acceptable answer. He was going to have to report to the Emperor as well. The ship was exploding with activity to make sure there was a proper greeting for the landing party.

It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night. The lieutenant on duty had almost been in a panic after answering the call and realizing all the appropriately senior officers were supposed to be asleep. Piett needed to be there, to reassure the crew and do his duty.

“We’ll keep you and the princess in the room,” Lord Vader was saying. “I will talk with him, and-“

“Lord Vader,” Piett hated to interrupt, but he had to. “The Emperor has requested you and your prisoners.”

Lord Vader’s hand on the princess’s back twitched. “Plural?”

“Yes.”

It could have been the light, but Piett was pretty sure Skywalker did actually look ill. “We- we can’t.”

“I must do as he says. You know this.”

There was no inflection in that tone. It was more like the Lord Vader that Piett had once known, but now it sounded completely wrong.

There were probably some serious problems with that. Piett did not want to think about them.

It was much easier to think about the snot on his shirt and how he hoped he would be standing far enough away from anyone that no one would notice.

“There’s always a choice,” Skywalker whispered, but there wasn’t a lot of heart in it.

“You will need to wear binders. It will be expected.”

Not, it was proper procedure. Not, you’re a prisoner.

The solid ground that had been slowly rebuilding under Piett’s feet since they’d managed to keep the princess from escaping was crumbling again. But this time, this time it was the Emperor they were going to face.

The man even Lord Vader called unforgiving.

And they were taking Skywalker. And the little princess.

There was a vacuum of space in Piett’s chest where he knew, he just knew, that if anything happened to Skywalker, they were all going to die tonight. Lord Vader might not be able to prevent it, but he would not allow it. Not condone it as part of an acceptable universe.

No one knew exactly how much power he had, but in that moment Piett knew he had _enough_ to make sure they all died.

Skywalker’s death would take them all with him.

“Should I bring the binders here?” Piett heard himself asking, his own voice almost as toneless as Lord Vader’s. Skywalker looked at them in despair.

“Yes. Immediately.”

“Yes, my lord.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna end like this.

It was a somber procession through the hallways. Piett had made sure that everyone else already had their instructions and the appropriate parties were in the correct hangar. Now all he had to do was march, three steps behind Skywalker, trailing Lord Vader who still had a small child curled against his shoulder.

The princess had long since stopped her crying. She was oddly silent as they made their way through the halls, her eyes looking beyond the walls, following something only she could see.

Given the relative direction they were walking, some ludicrous part of Piett thought it might be the Emperor’s ship.

But that was… impossible.

At one point Skywalker attempted, “You- you don’t have to-“

“I do.” Lord Vader was still toneless, “I must obey my master.”

It wasn’t comforting. It should have been, but it wasn’t.

Piett ignored the looks they were getting from all the personnel in the hallways who were not being summoned. He pretended that he couldn’t see the confusion, accusation, and belligerence in those faces. Faces of people who had seen too much and been told too little.

Skywalker. Death Star killer Skywalker. Princess Organa, weeping face of the rebellion. Proof the Empire would murder you and all you loved, without a second thought.

There was anger and despair and loneliness in the halls, and Piett had to ignore it.

He had a job to do, to protect his crew.

It would probably cost him his life. In this moment, he didn’t care.

General Veers nodded at Piett as their entourage entered the room. There was clear concern in his face, and maybe even a threat in his eyes as they slid from Piett to Skywalker to Lord Vader and the princess.

Everyone was in neat lines, rows and rows of them. Officers didn’t look like they had been dragged from their beds, just stood at the ready, still and contained.

Piett stopped in his place, facing the incoming shuttle and consciously smoothing his features, steadying his breathing.

_It’ll be alright._

It was an impression more than words, and it carried a tone that felt like Skywalker in it. Piett relaxed slightly, but neither Lord Vader nor the princess seemed to have noticed.

The landing ramp descended and Red Guards appeared, almost gliding out. The sight of them was enough to make Piett nervous again, but nothing in comparison to the black cloaked figure that then descended.

As soon as those feet touched the floor of the _Executor_ , Lord Vader kneeled, even with the child in his arms.

“Lord Vader,” the Emperor’s voice was surprisingly mild. “So delightful to see you, my friend. And it looks like you’ve managed to catch young Skywalker. Good. Very good.”

Lord Vader did not respond. Or stand.

“And who is this?” The Emperor gestured to Princess Leia, too far away to actually touch her, but the princess still leaned back into Lord Vader.

“A prisoner. We have been using her as leverage to contain Skywalker.”

He wasn’t going to give her name. Piett was surprised. It wasn’t like the crew was unaware. They could vouch for the situation. Explain.

No one moved, but Piett could just make out the eyes of the officers towards the front darting between the Emperor and Lord Vader.

They were all about to be implicated in this.

Oh dear.

“Ah. A good measure of his progress, I’m sure,” the Emperor was smiling, but there was nothing warm in it. Piett had felt more warmth from Lord Vader, trapped behind that mask, when he was comforting young Luke.

After all that had happened, apparently Piett could still experience surprise.

“How much progress has he made?” the Emperor asked, and Piett realized he wasn’t actually sure what that question was supposed to indicate.

“Little,” Lord Vader said. “I have not had enough time to work with him yet. But he will be turned.”

To the Empire? Piett couldn’t imagine Lord Vader would have any success with that. Skywalker had already managed to almost overwhelm Lord Vader just by talking about freedom in the desert.

Skywalker shifted, glanced at Lord Vader, then looked down.

The Emperor didn’t notice. His gaze had been caught by the princess, who was still curled defensively around Lord Vader. “I’m sure you will do quite well. It was wise to take a hostage. Skywalker is very susceptible to that sort of tactic.” His sneer was more pronounced, but the Emperor faced only Lord Vader and not the boy as the words dripped from his lip.

“I have learned,” Lord Vader said, his voice somehow more dead and toneless, “as much by experience.”

The Emperor smiled. “You were not a very quick learner,” he said, stepping into Lord Vader’s space and patting his mask in some sort of mockery of a fatherly gesture. “You still require,” he looked to Skywalker, “encouragement. For your compliance.”

“I serve your every bidding, my master.”

Drifting towards Skywalker, the Emperor chuckled. He grabbed the boy’s chin, looking into his eyes. Piett wished he could see Skywalker’s face, to try and guess at what he was thinking. “I’m sure you shall, Lord Vader. I am… very sure you shall.” He patted Skywalker’s cheek and the boy turned his head, leaning away from the gesture. The Emperor chuckled again. “What do you think, my boy? Are you ready to learn from Vader?”

Skywalker didn’t respond, and whatever was in his face must have amused the Emperor further. “You’ll want to,” he urged, stepping back towards his guards. “Should Lord Vader fail to properly train you, that would leave your training to me. I have no use for failure in my service.”

There was a jerk, as if Skywalker had been about to look to Lord Vader, who was staring resolutely ahead. “Then it’s a wonder you want to train me.”

“Oh,” the Emperor was still smiling as he turned back around, “I’m sure I could find sufficient motivation for you to succeed. I have a… knack,” for a moment his gaze turned to Lord Vader, “for helping people find sufficient motivation. To reach their full potential.”

Lord Vader didn’t move, but the princess suddenly whimpered, almost whining. Skywalker did turn to them then, and Piett could see the suggestion of anguish on his face.

A thought, from the place in his brain that had been growing these past weeks, believing and suggesting impossible things, wondered who exactly in this situation was the hostage. And who was being used as leverage.

And asked, again, who was Padmé?

The Emperor’s attention was on Princess Leia again, and he was studying her with growing fascination. “Why, Lord Vader. You didn’t tell me the child was… gifted. Were you planning on training her as well?”

It was only the slightest paused before Lord Vader answered, “Yes. When she was ready.”

“How wonderful. But of course, it would be difficult, since she is also your leverage for- ah. I know. Give her here.”

He held out a hand, inviting Lord Vader to put the princess down, send her over. Skywalker’s eyes were wide, his jaw clenched as he stared at Lord Vader.

“She is… my hostage,” Lord Vader said, almost as if he were confused at his own words.

“Yes, of course. And she will likely be very interesting once she is trained. So, you will keep young Skywalker here, on the understanding that her treatment will be based on his good behavior. And I will take the girl and train her. It is the most logical arrangement.”

His voice slowed on the last words, the enunciation was more crisp, the click of the final sound was an order unto itself.

Lord Vader adjusted the princess and she whimpered again, clutching tighter. Skywalker whispered, “Don’t,” taking a half step towards them. Lord Vader didn’t so much as look at him.

Piett stopped breathing as Lord Vader moved forward, the princess trying to wriggle away or hide, yanking at his cape. Swallowed as Lord Vader crouched, setting the princess on the ground, just at the Emperor’s feet, holding her arm tightly as she almost threw herself down and tried to crawl away, keening.

There was a moment where he held her there, the Emperor smiling down over them.

And then Lord Vader stood, and before Piett could quite understand what was happening the princess was running to Luke, throwing herself around his legs while the Emperor made a gasping, choking sound, Lord Vader’s hand clamped around his throat.

“No,” Lord Vader said, something between a growl and a hiss. “ _No_.”

The Emperor clawed at Lord Vader’s grip while everyone stood frozen. The Red Guard began to move, but before they could close, the Emperor had brought up his hands and Lord Vader was lit up by vicious blue lightning.

He collapsed to his knees, but that hand did not move. Not when the lightning finally stopped. Not when the Emperor also collapsed, a pressure Piett had not been aware of fading from the room. Lord Vader did not let go when he finally fell over, respirator wheezing in the cold vastness of the hangar.

Then the Red Guard did close, and Skywalker shouted, throwing his arms up as they raised their staves and the four guards were all thrown backwards. They clattered against the side of the ship and dropped with a thud.

“Medic!” Piett heard himself saying, as he watched Skywalker drop down beside Lord Vader, his binders clattering to the floor as he rolled Lord Vader over. “Get the medical team down here, now!”

The princess was curled on the floor and Piett had to walk past her, ignore her weeping as he moved over to Skywalker, tried to pull him back.

“No,” Luke protested, resisting. “No, don’t! I have to help him.”

“I need you,” Piett gave up trying to pull the boy and held him by the shoulder instead, “to get back and make room for the medics.”

“He’ll die,” Luke was panicking, panicking and crying and it didn’t make any sense and it didn’t have to, Piett had a job to do. “Please, I can’t let him die.”

There were people surrounding them now. Possibly asking questions. Skywalker had one hand on Lord Vader’s chest and refused to be moved. People were talking and Piett didn’t hear them. Just kept Skywalker in place until the medical team arrived.

Then, then he moved, directing them to take the Emperor first, then Lord Vader. He saw General Veers had taken the princess up, and so was able to focus on Skywalker, allowing him to follow the medical team.

They declared the Emperor dead by the time the body had reached the medbay. Lord Vader did not seem to be far behind. Skywalker consented to be cuffed to one of the beds, watching with tears streaming as they extracted Lord Vader from the suit to begin working on him.

“Admiral Piett,” Commander Ree had grabbed him, was staring at him with wide eyes. “What do we do?”

Piett looked to where the staff were gathered around Lord Vader. Past that, to where the Emperor lay. Towards the entrance where they were now bringing in the Red Guards.

“We see if Lord Vader stabilizes.”

“Is he… he’s not in charge? If he survives?”

I don’t know, Piett wanted to say. I don’t know anything about this. No one told me, confirmed, what the actual line of succession was. Everyone assumed… “If he survives, you’re welcome to ask him.”

He moved out of the room, trying to compile a list of the people that he needed to see, to speak to. Commander Ree followed. “You’re not going to tell anyone?”

Stopping, Piett took a deep breath, tried to be a little more here. A little more in this moment. “Not now. I’ll make a list, prioritize it once we know what’s going on. Better for now for the galaxy that things keep going on as they should. No need to cause chaos over this.”

“Lord Vader _murdered_ the Emperor,” the commander hissed, still looking very shocked by it. “He can’t- We can’t let him lead us.”

Did you see them, Piett wanted to ask. How one of them wanted to steal a child and use her as leverage to trap another person? How the Emperor had been threatening Lord Vader? For- for nothing? For faithful, dutiful service?

But then, Lord Vader had his own reputation for how he rewarded dutiful service.

“I need to make sure this ship stays functional,” Piett said as calmly as he could. “And see what happens to Lord Vader. We will take steps from there.”

“It’ll get out,” she said, softening a little. “That you stalled. They’ll hold you accountable.”

Oh, right. That.

“I’ll-“ he swallowed, tried to think. Caught sight of General Veers approaching, still carrying the princess. “I’ll inform… someone.”

The commander looked back, spotted the general and the girl. “What are we going to do with them? To explain?”

“I have no idea.”

* * *

A week later and Piett settled into a chair in the medbay, having finished supervising the latest hyperspace jump. He sighed, rubbing his forehead and trying to not think for five minutes.

“Would it actually be easier if he woke up?”

Glancing over, Piett frowned at the princess who seemed altogether too calm, especially with a young Luke in her lap, furiously poking at the metal plate where a hand should have been.

Piett grimaced, trying again to forget how awful it had been getting the hand removed when the boy had shrunk. “It would mean something had happened. And I could immediately stop being in charge.”

She smiled, and it was a surprisingly kind smile. “Being on the run isn’t your style.”

“I’m a naval official, not a rebel,” Piett sighed again, shaking his head. “Or so I thought.”

“You saw this coming. You knew people would try and step into control.”

And yet, the consequences if he hadn’t said anything. The risk to the crew. “There were no good options.”

“I still say we drop his body and leave it. Then at least they can’t say you’re preventing the funeral.”

Piett snorted, not sure if it was disbelief or amusement. Feelings were hard to sort out at this point. “I would love to. But it is the respected remains of the late Emperor, and once we are able to return to Coruscant, it will need to be examined as… evidence.”

“Of what Vader did?”

“Yes,” Piett said, avoiding Luke’s gaze. “What Lord Vader did.”

The princess curled around the boy before she said, “You’re protecting him. With all these jumps.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He could avoid Luke’s gaze, but then he had to meet hers.

“You remember, don’t you? What happens when you’re… small?”

“Yes.”

Oh good, then, “Then maybe you can guess why.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Swallowing a sudden nervousness, Piett managed, “Because… because he can be a good man. When he chooses to.”

She looked over at the form on the bed, covered in tubes and sensors, recently pulled out of another round in the bacta tank. The ghastly pale skin and puckered scars and deep circles under eyes that hadn’t opened yet.

“I suppose.” She wasn’t smiling, but there was a lightness that seemed to be growing with each passing day. “So how do you plan to get him off?”

“I was hoping,” Piett admitted, “that he had a plan for that.”

The princess actually chuckled. “I seriously doubt that.”

Piett groaned. “I… cannot handle that. The legalities, the politics. It’s just not my expertise.”

“Lucky for you,” the princess really was smiling now, and it did not make Piett feel better, “I have a plan.”

* * *

The protocol droid was entertaining young Luke, who was still refusing to leave the medbay. He claimed pain in his arm whenever they tried to move him, but everyone could see he simply didn’t want to leave Lord Vader.

“He’ll be lonely,” the boy had confessed once, standing next to the bed, hand on Lord Vader’s arm. And the staff hadn’t had the heart to deny him.

Besides, they didn’t have anywhere they could… contain their prisoners, and as long as Luke refused to leave Lord Vader and the princess refused to leave Luke, the medbay was as good as anywhere.

“’S a….” Luke chewed on his lip, eyes squeezed shut, “spray.”

“Very good, Master Luke, precisely. Such excellent guessing.”

Piett watched the droid start wandering around the room looking for another item for Luke to guess. The princess was dozing in a corner, which wouldn’t have concerned Piett if she wasn’t also being guarded by a white and blue astromech.

“I thought we turned you off,” Piett sighed, inching closer.

He’d tried to be quiet, but the princess had heard him and started awake, rubbing her eyes. “Admiral. How are things?”

“We’ve selected a new course that should keep us away from sudden death but allow us to avoid a majority of predictable paths until we have to resupply.”

She frowned. “Will we make it?”

“Most likely, yes. If we don’t run into any trouble with the jumps.”

She gave him a look for having said that out loud, but didn’t voice the criticism. “Did you find what I was looking for?”

“Not in Lord Vader’s records, but we have some slicers that have been bored and were willing to try remote access to more centralized databases. They have at least some of the information that you requested.”

He handed her a datapad and tried not to think about how much she had been bossing him around the last few days.

“What that?” Luke asked, abandoning his games and crawling into Princess Leia’s lap as she was reading.

She made room, wincing a little at the placement of Luke’s knees. “Hopefully, what will make Lord Vader emperor.”

“Emprer?”

“He’ll be in charge,” the princess explained. “Of everybody.”

“’S in charge,” Luke pointed out.

“Everyone in the galaxy,” Leia corrected.

Luke’s eyes became huge. “ _Ev’rybody_ ev’rybody?”

“For now,” Princess Leia smiled, leaning down to put a kiss on the top of Luke’s head. “But I have to read this first and make sure.”

“And get the galaxy to acknowledge it,” Piett muttered.

Apparently, he’d been heard. “They will. Without any other obvious options, he’ll get a lot of cooperation from people who don’t want to be ruled by other military leaders or moffs. It’ll be a nice, clean legal answer too, which the courts will like when it’s contested.”

“Sith heirs?”

“We had a Sith emperor.”

“He didn’t acknowledge that.”

“But everyone will believe it.”

Probably true. “Will the rebellion accept it?”

She shrugged. “Maybe not, but between Luke and me, I think we can convince them. It might take a little while, if we have to keep switching like this.”

Which meant now was as good a time as any to ask, “Do you think it will ever stop?”

“No.”

Piett looked down at young Skywalker. “He said, before, that he thought the desert had done it. Because… it wanted a Skywalker back.” The princess hummed. “Do you think- we’ll be passing by Tatooine.”

She did look up then, face flat except for the hint of a frown between her brows. “Tatooine had him, when he got shrunk. Not sure it will do any good bringing him back.”

“Then what would work?”

Some trills from the astromech were translated by C-3PO, “Artoo says the desert is probably looking for another Skywalker. Like Anakin.”

Princess Leia blinked. “Luke’s father? He’s dead. Since the end of the Clone Wars.”

Some more beeps. “Possibly not? Artoo says Anakin is technically still alive, if dubiously functional.”

“And the desert just wants him to come back and visit?” the princess’s skepticism was patent. “We don’t even know where he is. That doesn’t make sense.”

After some more trilling, C-3PO said, “What do you mean, he fell? Fell where? If he’s in a hole, we can’t just go and get him out now. He’s a Jedi. He should already have gotten himself out.” Some sarcastic sounding beeps. “What has Vader got to do with it?”

“General Kenobi said-“ the princess hesitated, looking down at Luke, “that Vader was the one who-“ She stared at Piett, and he nodded to show he understood. “But… if Anakin Skywalker is still alive, why would he-“

There was an irregular beep from one of the machines and all eyes snapped to Lord Vader’s bed. Piett had, in that moment, a horrible thought that cascaded into a series of increasingly worse, more impossible thoughts. “Do you know,” he asked in a rather detached voice, “who Padmé might be?”

The princess blinked. “As in, Senator Amidala of Naboo?” Piett stared, realizing where he had recognized the name from. “She was good friends with my father. Why?”

Piett looked at the astromech, thinking about the late senator, and everything that the Emperor had said about motivation. “What do they call it, if… if a Jedi becomes a Sith?”

“No idea,” Princess Leia said, clearly confused, just as R2-D2 beeped and C-3PO translated, “The Jedi used to refer to that as ‘Falling,’ apparently.”

Piett met the princess’s eyes, and knew she was thinking the same thing that he was. “Artoo,” she whispered, “is- do you know if Darth Vader is Anakin Skywalker?”

“Yes,” C-3PO answered when R2-D2 confirmed it.

“Leia?” Luke asked, clearly confused.

She looked to Piett who was at a total loss. “Artoo-” she stopped, licked her lips. “Artoo is saying that Darth Vader is Anakin Skywalker.”

The little boy in her arms cocked his head. “I-I’m Luke S’kywalker.”

“Yes,” Leia said, looking at the figure on the bed. “Yes, you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appear to be fundamentally incapable of writing something that is just pure fluff. Then again, Star Wars in particular does ask for this kind of nonsense...


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or rather, maybe like this?

The first time that Lord Vader woke up, the only one who had been present and awake was one of the medical staff. According to their very brief report, he had blinked a few times, spotted the princess curled up in the corner, muttered, “Padmé,” and had immediately fallen right back asleep.

But he had woken up at all and that had been the best news that Piett had heard in days.

This time, as Lord Vader woke, Piett was there and the princess and Luke were also awake and present.

Luke in particular was seated on the edge of Lord Vader’s bed, biting his thumb and looking between the patient and the princess.

“He’s s’eeping,” the boy pouted, reaching out but not quite touching the man who was, in all likelihood, his father. “Should be done s’eeping.”

The princess patted his head, and at just that moment, as if responding to the cranky voice, Lord Vader’s eyes blinked open.

They were yellow at first. Piett noticed because it was an odd and sickly color, and because the moment they found Luke and blinked again, they were suddenly a clear and vibrant blue.

“F’ather,” Luke stumbled over the word, and Piett wondered, because it had been so quiet and his lordship looked rather groggy and not nearly enough surprised, if he’d simply heard it as “Vader.”

In any case, he’d rasped, “Luke,” through his breathing mask and shifted as though to sit up.

“Not yet, sir,” Piett said, putting a hand out and not quite touching. “You need to lie still for a bit longer.”

As those eyes focused on Piett, Lord Vader eventually said, “Admiral. What-“

“A moment, sir,” it was easier to cut him off like this. He looked weak, and less threatening. “The medic needs to check you.”

The exam started as soon as Luke was pulled off the bed by the princess, a brief report of no new significant changes was given, and Piett dismissed them, knowing he had enough details to answer any of Lord Vader’s immediate questions.

He had been trying to keep all of the crew away from young Luke. The boy was still very excited about having a father.

Case in point, the moment the medic had left, Luke scrambled back onto the edge of the bed, trying to be gentle but more determined to be right next to Lord Vader. “Careful,” Piett said, more on instinct than from any hope of being heeded.

“He is. Fine,” Lord Vader insisted, and Piett didn’t argue. But he did notice all the times that Lord Vader flinched as the boy got settled. “Hello. Luke.”

“Hi. F’ather.”

It was startling to actually see Lord Vader’s expressions. Even after so long out of the suit, Piett was used to him sleeping impassively. Now, there was a frown between his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure he had heard quite right. He looked almost anxious as he glanced at Piett and the princess, as if trying to gage how they were responding. He seemed to relax when neither of them looked overly concerned. “How. Are you doing?”

Luke proffered his arm. “”S broke. Again.”

Worry, anxiousness. Lord Vader tried to reach over, but couldn’t get his arm all the way across his chest.

“A moment, my lord,” Piett said. He and the princess moved Luke and then adjusted the bed so that Lord Vader was in a more upright position. The blanket slid down and Piett tried to ignore the startled and almost awed look on Lord Vader’s face as he examined the clothes that he was wearing. Standard medbay options, but Piett got the distinct feeling that it had been a long time since he had worn anything except his suit.

He had to look away as Lord Vader carefully touched the fabric over his torso.

“My suit?”

“Damaged,” Piett said, trying to keep his voice calm and even. “Commander Skywalker was helping the medical staff work on it, but then…”

The princess gave an apologetic smile. “I’m not as good as Luke with mechanical repairs. And honestly, I think the team was pretty glad they didn’t have to put you back in it.”

“It isn’t. That difficult,” Lord Vader grumbled, Piett fascinated watching the frustration actually visible on his face.

“They said it was medically unsound, against all decent sentient ethics, and a walking biohazard. I don’t think ‘difficult’ was their biggest concern,” the princess was smiling now, and Lord Vader was clearly confused by that. “I’m pretty sure if it had been usable, one of them might have sabotaged it.”

“Of course,” Lord Vader said, and that was what betrayal and acceptance looked like, warring for use of his features.

“Because they’ve qualified the person who put you in it as a sadistic, unethical, immoral crime against the galaxy,” the princess added dryly, and seemed more amused as she enjoyed the surprise on Lord Vader’s face. “Once they’d decided the Emperor was probably the one who’d put you in it, they were mostly willing to ignore you killing him.”

And lucky for everyone in this room, they hadn’t been the only ones.

“Your suit hurted?” Luke asked, crawling so he could snuggle up against Lord Vader’s side, eyes wide and worried and Lord Vader _melted_ when the child touched him. It wasn’t a bright happiness, not like Luke generated. But all of his features softened, and his eyes were riveted on the boy. “Here?” Luke asked, reaching up and touching the largest of Lord Vader’s scars, arching across the top of his head.

“No,” Lord Vader whispered, his hand coming up to touch Luke’s. “The suit. Did not. Hurt me there.”

“Where?”

Since the answer was pretty much everywhere else, and because Lord Vader looked helpless as he tried to come up with an answer, Piett said, “Your father has a lot of injuries, Luke,” and ignored the horrified look on Lord Vader’s face to add, “The suit was helping him with some things, but when he wore it, some of his other injuries couldn’t get better.”

“How?” Lord Vader demanded, and was answered by the astromech at the foot of the bed, who seemed to be beeping almost gleefully. “If I had _wanted_ to tell them-“

He was stopped by a cough and had to take several deep, wheezing breaths. Luke snuggled closer, softly patting Lord Vader’s chest.

“We were discussing how to reverse this de-aging nonsense,” the princess said, crossing her arms. “Luke had said the desert wanted a Skywalker. We were debating the merits of taking that one back,” she nodded at the child wrapped in Lord Vader’s arm. “Artoo suggested an alternative.”

Looking down at his son, Lord Vader seemed equal parts pleased and worried.

And it was really, really strange watching every single thought and feeling cross his face. Piett wondered if that was how he had always been, or if he was just unused to being exposed.

“Are we. Near. Tatooine?”

“No,” Piett said, glancing at the princess, who was unreadable. “We’re currently in the Alderaan system.”

Lord Vader stared first at Piett, and then the princess. “How long?”

“Two days,” Piett answered. “But it’s been almost two weeks since the Emperor’s arrival. We’ve been… avoiding other command ships until- until you woke up.”

At least Lord Vader seemed to understand all the implications of that. “But we’re. Close. To Coruscant?”

“Fairly close, yes.”

He thought about that for a moment. “Has anyone. Taken command?”

“Of this ship? I’ve been running her, per procedure. We’ve had reports of several individuals that have suggested they should be the next Emperor. However, since his body has not been brought back to the capital, his death is not officially confirmed yet. Nor the circumstances around it.”

They gave him a couple of minutes to digest that. To look angry and worried, and to stare at Luke, whose own fear was more for the mask his father was wearing and the various sensors and tubes still attached to him.

“Whatever happens,” Lord Vader said at last, “I will. Need. My suit.”

There had been discussion about making a new one, something to fit all of the artificial systems that were keeping Lord Vader alive that had been damaged by the lightning, that he still needed. One that would allow the possibility of restoring some of those systems so that they were more biological again, and less mechanical. A suit that was easier to put on and take off, that provided oxygen without covering every inch of skin, hiding his eyes, separating him from physical contact.

It was not a solution for the next two days, however. “We still have it. They have been working on the simpler repairs, but we aren’t sure we have all the replacement parts we need for the respirator, which I’ve been told is essential.”

“It is.” The wheeze that came with that answer was not reassuring. “So I need. My suit. And a plan. In two days.”

“Actually,” Piett hesitated, “we have… something of a plan.”

Lord Vader had noticed Piett look to the princess. He stared at her. “A senate?” His tone wasn’t completely mocking, but it wasn’t complimentary.

“That would be nice,” she answered back without any venom. “But I think the more immediate solution is to make you Emperor, get you healthy, and prevent a full on civil war from starting.”

“This,” Lord Vader was trying to sneer, but there was too much surprise on his face, “From. A rebel.”

“I don’t _want_ people to die,” Princess Leia said firmly, offended now. “And I don’t want a dictator. But I won’t get most of the things that I want. So I’m being practical.”

There was a long silence, eventually broken by Luke’s tentative, “F’ather?”

This time, Lord Vader did have the strength to bring a hand to the boy’s head, to touch his face and stroke his cheek and smile as Luke snuggled into the touch. He laid back, just breathing. “He never told me. If I would inherit.”

Princess Leia held up the datapad she had been using for research and notes. “He planned to kill you,” she said. “And a lot of other people too. But I’ve got a way around that.”

Lord Vader cracked an eye open and pulled Luke closer. “I’m listening.”

* * *

“Still not drinking?” General Veers slid into the seat across from Piett, nodding at the cup in his hands. A cup which did not, in spite of all of Piett’s wishes, contain alcohol.

“No. Lord Vader is stable, and almost mobile. But we have at least three more days before I can risk it.”

They’d had variations of this conversation a few times before, Veers pointing out Piett couldn’t always be on duty. In fact wasn’t always on duty. Piett’s retort had always been the same. The Emperor had been a surprise. He didn’t want to be caught drunk, or hungover, and surprised by whatever came next.

Drumming his fingers across the tabletop, Veers looked out across the room. “They’re relieved we’re docking. We were running low on food.”

And water. Piett had been keeping track. Hence the not drinking. Couldn’t risk missing a mutiny. Not with the possibility of Luke getting hurt. “I know. I had plans for if he wasn’t ready yet.”

Alliance contacts, actually. They knew of some he could have put pressure on in a pinch, and Princess Leia had tentatively offered to provide more, if it was an issue of safety. To even liaison, if necessary. It had been very generous, considering the risks.

“Could have shared them.”

“We have spies,” Piett sighed. “Why do you think Lord Vader never explains anything? Success in the Empire is dependent much less on luck than ambition and usefulness.” Ignoring the face his friend made, knowing that saying such a thing in the past had been close to expressing rebel sentiment, Piett added, “You heard the Emperor.”

Veers grimaced, shaking his head. “Did you know he could do that? With the lightning?”

“I had no idea.” But he knew now. Knew what that meant. Knew some of the things that the princess had been putting together, once the idea of Sith had entered into the picture in a political way. Had heard her voice some ideas, theories about the Clone Wars.

Theories the astromech had declared reasonable.

The others in the room were fairly quiet. The ship had been almost tomblike for days and days now. Little laughter, just perfect execution of orders, sleeping, mild entertainment for those off duty.

There would have been a day when Piett had been delighted by this, by the idea that things were calm and no one was likely to get killed.

Now. He almost missed the sounds of Luke riding the astromech around the hallways.

Almost.

“Think Vader can do it too?” Veers asked suddenly. “I mean, he doesn’t need to. We all go down with the choking. But for the kid. Do you think he’d use lightning?”

Piett stared. Opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to remember that Veers didn’t know, and had never seen the look on Lord Vader’s face. “No. No, he wouldn’t.”

“He cut off his hand,” Veers pointed out with an awkward shrug.

Well, “Yes. He did. But, as far as the lightning, I don’t think he can. His arms are prosthetics. I don’t think he could manage. Not without… self-destructing?”

“Good point,” Veers looked much more relaxed. “Hadn’t thought of that one.”

“And he won’t hurt Luke,” Piett felt compelled to add, spinning his cup in his hands.

That earned a snort. “I mean, sure, when he’s a kid. But are you seriously telling me he’s not going to hurt Luke Skywalker? To have him executed the minute we get back? Hell, if I were him, I’d pin the Emperor’s death on the kid. Crush the rebellion and take the throne, one simple stroke. Doesn’t matter what we saw, no one will listen to us.”

Hands trembling slightly, Piett took a sip. “Do you- Is that the general opinion of the men on this ship? What they expect will happen?”

“There’s a few outliers,” Veers said. “Couple hundred of them. Mostly who’ve seen the kids the most. But everyone else…”

“They are,” Piett said, smiling in a way that he knew was not comforting, “in for a very large surprise.”

He refused to give any more details.

* * *

When he stopped by the medbay just as his shift ended, Piett was relieved to see that young Skywalker was asleep, and so was Lord Vader. The princess was reviewing something, possibly the outline she and Lord Vader had been working on for his self-coronation speech.

“Things coming along?” Piett asked quietly, coming to her side.

She nodded, smiling in a twisted way. “It’s been a while since I did Imperially approved speeches. I’m trying to make sure the vocabulary doesn’t accidentally suggest Alliance leanings.”

“Really?”

She gave him a look. “I did say that I don’t want people to get killed. This isn’t Alliance approved anyway, so I shouldn’t make it look like them. It should be what it is. Vader taking control, because he feels entitled.”

“You did help entitle him,” Piett said, testing for something, he wasn’t sure what.

She looked over at the two sleeping forms on the bed and something painful crossed her face, just visible even in the dim light. “We all did. In our own ways.”

Wincing slightly, Piett said, “We did.”

She went back to working then, and he was impressed by how much she had already done. When he mentioned it, she just laughed softly. “I could wake up tomorrow and be a kid again. Luke’s got good intentions and would be more than happy to do anything to protect his father, I’m sure. But political, Luke is not.”

That was probably very true. Piett could see it. “I wonder how he’ll handle being Crown Prince.”

Princess Leia laughed at that, startling Lord Vader awake, which in turn woke Luke. She covered her mouth, giggling, her eyes trying to convey an apology that Lord Vader did not look ready to accept. Luke just rubbed his eyes.

“Wa’s funny?” he mumbled.

Since the princess was helpless, still giggling, Piett said, “Politics.”

Lord Vader did not look impressed. “Perhaps. She can find them. Amusing. More quietly. Or. Somewhere. Else.”

Smothering her snickers, Princess Leia said, “Just… trying to imagine Luke. As a prince.”

Bristling, Lord Vader growled, “He’ll be. A fine. Prince.”

“Oh, he will,” another burst of giggles. “But the look on his face. When you have to tell him. I have to see it.”

Looking more chagrinned now, Lord Vader looked down at Luke. “Do you. Want. To be a prince?”

He considered it. “We cuddle?”

“Yes. We can. Still cuddle.” Lord Vader glowered as this caused another round of snickering from the princess.

“And bild ships?”

“As many. As you want.” Piett swallowed a whine at that.

“And have frut?”

Lord Vader’s head dropped to press against his son’s. “Yes,” Piett could hear the smile in his voice. “We can. Have fruit.”

Luke pondered this. “And L-Leia’s my princess?”

Lord Vader choked slightly and the princess managed to look serious. “I’m not marrying him.”

“Of course you. Can’t marry him. Like this,” Lord Vader managed. “We’ll discuss. Once. It’s fixed.”

Princess Leia’s, “No,” was harmonized by the astromech beeping and followed by C-3PO’s, “What do you mean, twins?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following me on this exciting adventure. There may be more bits and pieces that float in sometime in the future, but this is actually the final stop for this part of the journey (no, Piett is not allowed to go on vacation yet, sorry Piett). It's been so exciting hearing all of your theories and reading all of your comments. I'm so glad you've had so much fun and so grateful for all of your encouragement.
> 
> Now, on to the next adventure...


End file.
